


Forty days of dating

by tennisuhs



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Bonus Smut, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, a lot of pinning, also a lot of feels and fears, i can't begin to tell you how much pinning is happening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-06-25 11:17:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19744633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tennisuhs/pseuds/tennisuhs
Summary: Johnny is the emodiment of romance, he wants to bathe in it, for better and worse. Ten hates what love entails, what it leaves behind. Scarred and guarded he faces the other in a rather questionable feat: fake-date each other in order to pass a subject.





	Forty days of dating

The mail arrived in the afternoon. 

Bus shaking rather vigorously, thrashing one could say. Big city’s traffic was not gentle, not even behind skilled hands like bus drivers, so to make it out alive, Ten could only count on his balance skills. Which he would proudly say he owned, if being a dancer for more than a decade was anything to go by.

There were a few things that could throw him off of his center point: turning his head too fast while doing spins, a miscalculated landing. And that damn email.

Everything seemed fantastic at first, nothing special about the subject.

But that PDF file. Typed in hell, in the smallest, most twisted circle of it by a demon that had spent all his life drinking black, rotten coffee and now was damned to become a bitter being.

No matter how many times he read it, the words twirled within themselves until his eyes lost focus and his head was a humming mess of white noise. 

Pushing the stop button with more might that he’d expected, Ten bounced out of the bus and made a run for it to the studio. Fresh air always helped the dizziness, at least in his case, better than any painkiller.

Taeyong raised an eyebrow at the sight of his friend panting, bent over and coughing. The younger didn’t have to look at his friend to understand the stance was of a worried boy. He looked the part of someone bearing bad news.

“Bad news.” He let out before yet another cough shook his vocal chords

“How bad can it be?”

“Like the dollar store cuch.” It would be a laughter if he hadn’t wasted all his air.

“Not now, Ten.” 

Softly, Taeyong’s hand helped his friend into a standing position. The one on his back rubbing soothing circles, the other patting Ten’s chest.

After a few deep breaths, the elder had yet to say something, his face expectant to whatever Ten was about to tell him. There was no way the shorter would keep a secret from Taeyong. 

“The project.” Taeyong bit down his gasp. “For my psychology in media class.” 

“What? What pro-” Stopping his massaging on Ten’s shoulders, his eyes widened, realising. “Oh, shit.”

Ten’s smile was void. Which was terrifying. Taeyong leaned back, just in case the boy was to become a vampire or some sort of creature right then and there. It wouldn’t surprise him. Ten smiled in flavour. Always.

“I think I’m about to have a panic attack.”

  
  
  


“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“You’re welcome.”

It’s the bliss of the weekend before the new semestre. Far, yet at arms reach, looming over them menacingly, the last few months of the school year. And for some that would be a relief, for other’s --read, Ten -- not so much. Dread is what he felt beyond anything else. 

Muffling his thank you against the edge of the cup, his eyes closed shut at the hot lava of the first sip. Maybe Doyoung was right, he was some sort of masochist for not letting his coffee cool down, bathing his taste buds in deathly hot liquid first thing in the morning. Ten would argue he was just caffeine deprived. 

“Not stoked about the new year, are we?” Kun’s voice was sheepish when he was sleepy, hair everywhere and loose smile tugging on his dimples. 

As a reply, Ten shook his head where it was laying against the isle of their kitchen. A small luxury within a student’s apartment.

Outside the window, winter presented itself in a double crossed manner: even if it appeared gentle, with fluffy pillowy clouds and no humidity; January was taking a toll on Ten’s cheeks, pinkish and sensitive. 

“Will going over your schedules help?” It was commendable how eager Kun was to make his friend feel better. 

Kun was caramel macchiato in the surface, foam and beige and sweet and inviting.Ten should have known better than to take a sip. The exchange student boy held a double shot brew under all that softness, able to spike the heart rate of a yogi.

A vivid memory pulsates through Ten, late at night when embarrassment is double. Involving Ten and his broken mandarin calling Kun his soulmate. And a very pouty Taeyong.

“I already read all the study plans, and made that planning thing you told me. I am over this torture, thank you very much.”

Kun booped his nose. Sometimes he felt like the boy was put in this earth to either punish him or make his life more interesting.

“Cheer up, pumpkin.” Make his life more interesting, his ass. Ten groaned at the nickname to no avail. “Just one more semester and then it’s all senior year electives.”

“And dissertation.” The words were bitten against the mug. "Don't try to pretend you forgot about it, Qian."

Kun reached to hold Ten's hand, a small pout on his lips. “I didn’t want to stress you out, pumpkin.” Caramel syrup. “But how can I forget? I already have a theme and a tutor, I could start already. You could do the same, you know?” Double shot with a smirk.

Ten smacked his hand away and leaned backwards on the stool. 

The prospects of the future only made his chest press tighter, as if his sternum had decided to take a deep dive into his own lungs. Joining the campus cult didn’t seem a bad idea then: good grades and stable mental health at the modic price of sadistic sacrifices. A fair deal. 

“You fucki--”

“Ah-ah.” Interrupted Kun. “You can’t be mad at me, I made you coffee.” 

“It is your duty as a friend.” And, just for good measure, Ten downed half of his drink in one sitting.

Maybe that’s why they were still friends, Ten resolved. The stupid deal started back in freshmen years, awkward roommates and language barriers, when Kun bought Ten coffee and hence, starting a back and forth drink-gifting that never seemed to end. The shorter had lost track of who was in coffee debt now. 

“Doyoung and I were planning on going for back to school shopping, you in?”

“It offends me that you have to ask, Qian.”

  
  
  


Beauty is subjective. Relative. Beauty should not be oppressed by standards, or defined by limits. There's no such thing as limited beauty. Beauty is when it’s natural, when it’s personal, unique. Beauty isn't frame by time, but he still wanted to capture it. To steal just a moment out of beauty and treasure it forever. Because, people can't posses time: time slips. Beauty fades. Pictures remain.

"Johnny, I swear to fucking god, if you take another picture of me." 

It was well into the afternoon, one could say it was evening. Monday; first day of the semester , which meant that Jaehyun was cooking dinner. And Johnny couldn't be more delighted.

"What? Can’t a boy just take a picture? Of my bro? My homie? Soulmate? Ride or die? Honey boo?" 

The taller sat on the counter, long legs dangling on the edge as he observed his roommate at the other side of the kitchen. Back turned against him, black apron against his plain white shirt. Sadly, he had left his camera on the table, out of reach for him to snap another picture. 

He might have gotten chased by a Jaehyun waving a wooden spatula, but photographers had to take risks. 

"You are going to fill up your camera's memory with junk," the younger protested weakly.

"Define junk," Johnny snickered, bouncing off the counter to get some snacks. "You will thank me when you find yourself picture-less while setting up your Tinder profile."

"Not gonna happen." Taking a small break from his quest, Johnny could see the jar of tomato sauce, and his tummy rumbled at the thought of Jaehyun’s infamous spaghettis. 

"Grindr?" Nothing on the upper cabinets.

"Johnny." Covering the lid, the younger turned around threatening expression matching his voice. Spatula in hand.

"You aren’t up for meeting new people, fair enough." Giving up on the snacks, Johnny turned with his palms facing the other.

"Or serial killers. No bueno for my anxiety." 

After a long pause, Johnny scratched his arm, eyes everywhere. "So you won’t come to the club with us this weekend?" his tone lowered, eyes fixed on the bag.

A sigh. 

There are some things one can’t capture with a camera, as much as people might guess by the image itself, Johnny would forever struggle to put a visual representation to the change of mood. The tension in the air. Because guessing isn’t the same as feeling it. 

And Johnny was feeling like Jaehyun might snap at any second. A Jaehyun snap is not a pretty snap. A Jaehyun snap means months of healing. Johnny would ruin his own life before letting that happen again.

"No, Johnny." Jaehyun turned towards the stove. "You won’t press me, I know. But, that's not how I cope with things."

"I know, I know. I get it." Johnny nodded, a sudden tightness in his guts made him drop what he was eating and throw it away. "Just let me know when you are. I miss my favorite party buddy." reaching for the other, he put an arm around his shoulder. 

"Okay." The thing about Jaehyun's voice is that it was already naturally low, deep, but silky. It sounded raspy then, like the boy was forcing the sounds out through a shattered glass. 

"Wanna know something funny?" the younger pursed his lips and nodded. “I have a partner project this semester."

Jaehyun giggled. “Yikes. What subject?”

He was an elephant, clumsy and stepping on flowers sometimes. But after two decades Johnny had become a master on redoing and mending. Specially when it came to Jaehyun.

“Psychology in Media.” Johnny leaned next to his friend as he cooked. 

“The class with Psychology majors?” Jaehyun asked softly.

“It is an elective” He clarified with a shrug. “I just needed some spare credits.”

“Spare some coochie, education system.” 

It was glass and Johnny was clumsy, but his hands didn’t shake and Jaehyun managed to always ground him in place. 

“You’ll love what it entails, though.” Jaehyun turned around, curious. “We gotta take like buzzfeed quizzes in order to get our most compatible partner and fake date each other for forty days.”

Jaehyun remained silent.

“Because you know, books and other media are like if you follow this you’ll be happy. So we are experimenting wi--”

A big hand slapped on his mouth, shutting him up effectively. “I stopped listening after you said buzzfeed.” His hand fell and with it the smell of food. 

“You don’t seem excited.”

“I just have a bad feeling about this.”

Dinner was silent. And no matter how much Johnny swallowed, the lump feeling in his gut didn’t go away.

  
  
  


“Student ID?” 

“There you go.” came out rather strained due to the movement. The woman didn’t seem to notice.

She took the card, scanned and gave him a piece of paper he’d treasure like a relic for years to come. Call him hoarder if you will, but Johnny took his art merch very seriously. 

“Oh, sorry, are pictures allowed?” He asked mid step away from the counter.

“No flash.” 

She was the embodiment of excitement. 

Johnny couldn’t blame her, that job wasn’t really what one might call a challenge, or at the very least entertaining. Besides, her shift had to be the most dreadful one: wednesday at three in the afternoon.

Which was funny because, as a visitor, that was the best hour, the peaceful hour, urban solitude and eerie calmness between the storm. A break from everything. Museums are liminal spaces if your life is messy enough.

Shrugging as he walked, Johnny smiled at the security man who punched a hole in the ticket, metaphorically piercing Johnny’s heart as well. He had to do it right in the middle, didn’t he?

“Can I ever have nice things?” Johnny murmured hoping the man hadn’t heard him.

He was too far away to do anything though, the doors already sliding closed behind his back. 

An entire gallery for himself standing before his eyes. If Jaehyun was a balsam, art galleries were his nectar. Even more so on weekdays, early in the afternoon, ensuring no class groups or loud tourists.

Just him, his camera and rooms upon rooms filled with art. 

Just him and Jaehyun’s words. They still stung, but he could put a bandage around it, he could pull the thorns and heal. Jaehyun never meant harm, for all the taller was sure of, his friend was looking out for him. As much as Johnny’s pride wouldn’t let him accept that, he was sort of thankful. 

Grabbing the informative booklet, Johnny mapped out his path. He was going to be there a while, since the light was ideal to capture impressionist paintings.

Midway through Cassatt’s children series, his back bumped against something as he walked backwards.

And panic arouse. 

For a split second the thought of him breaking something crossed his mind, improbable but not impossible. It happened before. In Russia, he’d read.

However, the statue he figuratively pushed down complained softly. Statues don’t complain. 

“Oh, sorry.” He whispered.

Art didn’t care about loud noises either, but galleries were a sort of sacred spaces, like libraries. People found enlightenment there, and enlightenment required silence. 

“Don’t worry.” The other said, offering Johnny a smile as they both turned.

His mom used to tell him he had a whisker when he smiled. Calling Johnny the chesire cat when she tucked him to sleep. Well, if she saw the other boy, his mother would probably revoke that title from him, and give it to the other.

“Got caught up with my camera.” He excused himself, even though he really didn’t have to. 

The elephant was back. Taking over the room and his eternal battle between his need of socializing and his innate awkwardness. 

Extrovert meets clumsiness. 

“You are good, man.” The boy said. “Just be a tad more careful, you don't want to trip on those string things on the floor and punch a hole in a Renoir.”

Johnny gasped dramatically, making those whiskers appear again on the other’s smile. Man, that was a pretty smile if he dare say so himself. 

“I would never.” 

“Well, if by the end of the day news break about a hole in a painting, I won’t snitch on you.”

“I’d owe you my life.”

And with that, the guy waved shyly and moved to the other section.

He could have chased after him. He could. In one of the million different universes where this same event had happened, he did. But in this one, Johnny watched the shorter boy smile his way out, round the corner and melt with the big rooms. One with the echo and the silence.

Bravo for those Johnny's who did follow their gut. This Johnny was happy to sneak a picture of the boy’s back, walking towards where a big Monet work was displayed. Purple and lavender and his silhouette, as if he was a guest in the painter's garden. 

Looking up after checking the viewfinder, Johnny lost sight of the boy. As if he, indeed, had been sucked into the water lillies. 

  
  
  


“It’s not funny!” 

In his mind, slamming his fists against the table seemed a good idea. Now his wrists were aching and no one even flinched. 

To be quite fair, Ten couldn’t point out when the theme of the conversation had switched from the Impressionist exposition, with a very excited Taeyong since he had helped due to his internship; to Ten’s midterm project.

However, that’s how their friendship worked. Think of it as a whole lake, streams from all over the universe coming to connect to it, making it bigger, stronger, overflowing.

“No it’s not. But if I don’t laugh, I might actually start a fucking manifesto on why higher education is bullshit.” Yuta said, calming down from a very fake giggle attack. 

“Jesus Christ, babe, stop moving.” reprimanded Doyoung, currently holding the nail polish brush with one hand and Yuta’s finger on the other, trying to make them meet somehow.

“This is worse than Tinder.” His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes screwed shut.

“How so?”

“I can dodge and ghost people there.” Taking a pitiful bite onto his food, Ten stared at his sandwich as if waiting for salvation. “But this are my required credits, I’ll have to meet them face to face, everyday.” 

“The things one has to do for a piece of paper that proves you are a good enough member of society, so you can get hired, earn money and be part of the system.” Said Taeyong bitterly. 

Yuta snorted out midst blowing on his nails. “I taught you well.”

When the two boys kissed Ten rolled his eyes, going back to his food. 

“It’s just for forty days, right?” Taeyong asked again, before blowing his nails dry. 

“Yeah, which is almost the entire semester .” Yes, he did the maths in his head. Yes he might have used his phone calendar to check. Yes, he had also asked Doyoung. 

“On the bright side,” That one was Yuta, now with his left hand occupied. “If anyone unwanted hits on you, you can just use that partner as an excuse.”

Taeyong nodded in agreement. Doyoung rolled his eyes, but sneaking a glance of his roommate. However, Ten couldn’t stop the image of a chest, and then a face, surrounded by golden frames. Beanie letting a few sprouts of hair through, gentle eyes like a deer waiting for the the headlights. Maybe he could use the excuse, but he’d make an exception for the museum boy.

Not that his friends would ever know about him, they would tease Ten for years on end until they ended up together. And the thought itself was enough to make Ten want to shut down.

“It’s a matter of you turning this whole thing around.” Taeyong concluded.

“And work things out.” finished Yuta. 

“I just know you two aren’t quoting high school musical right now.” Ten rubbed his temples and looked at Doyoung pleading. 

He tended to do that, because it normally helped. The brunette was sipping on his soda, apparently minding his own business after deeming the nail painting done. 

“So, when are you getting the results?” He simply asked, going back to his drink.

“On the 14th of this month.” He replied. 

And the entire table erupted into a mess of chuckles, Doyoung choking and Taeyong hitting his back as he nearly hiccuped. 

“I said it’s not funny!” It was a lost cause, he knew when his own lips formed a smile at the realisation. February the 14th. Wasn’t life just a big ol’ joke.

  
  
  


“It reeks.”

“Of success.”

“No, Johnny.” Taeil said between a bass guitar with spiky ends, and a round red one. “You should just throw it in the washer.”

Red hair had suited the other, Johnny let himself recall now that the elder’s attention was in the second guitar. Maroon was Taeil’s color, and what better to disclose that than put it in his hair. It had been a whole adventure to find the perfect box dye, put up plastics in Taeil’s new bathroom floor, and wrap the boy with towels. 

Johnny wasn’t sure what exactly tickled his first roomate into doing this. Yet again, wanting to know exactly what flew inside Taeil’s mind would result in fatigue. Is trying to catch a piece of plastic in a pool: no matter how close you think you are, how sure you think you’ve got it; the piece keeps slipping away from your hold. That was Taeil. And Johnny wouldn’t want it any other way.

“But what if I bump into the boy again?” Johnny complained, his own hands passing through music books. 

“Don’t touch those.” Taeil quickly reprimanded, slapping his uninvited hand away. “Then you do what any other fucking adult person does: introduce yourself.”

“Okay, genius, what if he doesn’t recognize me?” Johnny rose his voice. “Then he’ll be like super confused and maybe run away but,” he pointed at his beanie. “if he sees this, he’ll know it’s me.”

“How so? I mean, you told me the museum was kind of dimly lit, what if the guy didn’t notice the beanie in the first place?” Taeil checked the price tag of one set of guitar picks. “You aren’t the first person to own a yellow beanie. And what if the museum lights changed the color and made it look brown? And who is to say he remembers you at all?”

When he turned, Johnny’s jaw might as well had hit the floor, arms crossed from his attempt to counter fight. Because Johnny was sure he had gathered more arguments the second he came up with this plan. He was sure he could go against the elder’s logic, and downright pessimism. But, alas, just like ever since they met, Taeil had the last word. Without even battling for it.

Now that made Johnny lose his marbles. 

“I don’t know why I even entertain your ideas. Just take it off.” And with that he was behind the counter again.

So, just like a child would after being told off by his parents, Johnny yanked his beanie off of his head. Hell would freeze and heaven would burn before he admitted that the cloth was starting to itch. 

Taeil leaned in closer to help his friend style his hair. Johnny wanted to go for a medium length ever since last summer, but hair grows that much faster and he has that much patience. Also, it was rather counterproductive having lasik done and yet being unable to see due to his own hair.

Taeil took his time, so Johnny rested his elbows on the surface and let him do his good employee things. 

“You are really against the idea of love, aren’t you?”

“I’m not against it. I just know how bitter it really is.”

Johnny was going to argue, but the bell rang, signaling someone entering the store. 

Normally Taeil would just greet the customer with clear boredom, not bothering to feel ashamed that he wasn’t paying attention to the door. Johnny felt bad sometimes for being the reason of such behaviour. However, he put himself in Taeil’s shoes and he too would feel very lonely in such place. 

Needless to say, it came as a shock when Taeil retracted like Johnny’s hair was Medusa’s. Eyes clearly widening as they never left the newcomer’s figure. 

“Oh, hello Taeil. Long time no see.” The boy bowed.

“Yeah,” Taeil whispered, clearing his throat. Johnny was wildly confused, Taeil did not get frustrated. Ever. “Yeah it has, huh? How’ve you been, Kun?”

Ah.

That made sense. 

It was sort of fascinating really. 

Seeing Taeil trying his very best not to stare while Kun spoke, walking him around the store like a lost puppy. His non-existent tail wagging whenever Kun so much as smiled. 

It was fascinating in the sense that this display was so far from the image Taeil built for himself. This was his own bitterness. 

No matter how much Taeil tried to hide it back then, his crush on what once was his junior still remained. Palpable in how his whole attention was on the other, how he tamed his steps to not be frantic.

Johnny hoped Kun was noticing the uncharacteristic nervousness in the boy too. 

The paradox of the two was nothing but proof to Johnny. Proof that love existed, even if it’s a human construct based on ideas and actions that were born between lines of ink, it still very much existed. 

Even in the bitter end, in the way it hurt. 

Johnny wanted to soak himself in it. Wanted to see it bloom all around him, for himself, for Taeil, Jaehyun and even the boy in the museum.

“By the way, I work at a bar.” Kun commented when they got back to the counter, piano practice books under their arms. “Not very fancy but I get to claim the open mic more nights than not.”

The shyness was reciprocated and Johnny wanted to pinch himself. Only to make sure he wasn’t watching a Netflix original. But instead he just spoke up.

“Well, we should come pay you a visit then.” Johnny managed to sound casual, but Taeil’s stare burned his temple.

“Yeah, sure.” Kun looked like he had been shaken out of slumber, his gaze bouncing from one guy to the other. Finally, he set it on Taeil. No surprises there. “I could text you whenever it’s open mic night.”

When the bell rang again, Kun’s back behind the glass, Johnny turned to his friend who really was trying to hold it together. Within a second, Taeil deflated, his entire figure laying on top of the counter. Breath fogging the crystal, and eyes glassy open. 

"It's like the universe hates me." He sounded miniscule. 

"Or maybe it's a sign."

"Can you jump out of your mushy puppy love believing pants and help me?"

"Like that time you asked me to help you breathe underwater?" 

Taeil took a big inhale as he rose back again. Clicking his tongue, he let out the air in his lungs as he brushed his hair.

"I'm fucked, right?"

"You could unfuck yourself." Johnny stated, hands coming for a makeshift massage on the other's shoulders. "And fuck Kun instead."

Johnny won't argue he deserved the kick in the stomach Taeil delivered after a chase around the store.

  
  
  


And just like so, it was almost Friday.The first week of the semester blew by. After three whole years, Ten could stop and ponder on how time is fleeting, and how his life and college just seemed to mend together. The two pieces formed one big blanket, rough but what Ten had made himself comfortable in. That’s why graduation seemed ruthless, yet desirable. Maybe a silky blanket was waiting for him there.

Some kind of tradition that started this time when Ten, Doyoung and Kun were freshmen.

Now Doyoung managed to get two boyfriends, so what started as a regular roommates hangout, was now a full on friend meeting.

Minus Kun this time, having morning classes and all. Ten should follow his example, but who was he to say no to soju. 

“Are you sure?” Taeyong’s head all over Yuta’s shoulder, rolling off slightly when he spoke.

“No lapdancing, Yongie.” Doyoung’s arms were crossed, but there was no thorns in his eyes. “Do not encourage this, Yuta. I don’t want another sex toy either.”

Ten was merely fascinated as how their conversation ended in such topic. Never, during his freshman year, had imagined he would gather so many people in his inner circle. And that they’d be the type that talk about kinks in public.

They were home away from home.

“Another?” Ten wiggled his eyebrows.

“You see, Doyoung here has grown a liking for nip-” Before Yuta could finish, Doyoung kicked him in the shin from the other side of the table. Almost falling off his stool.

After some more bickering, Taeyong looked at his dance partner, eyebrows arched and eyes all big and glossy. The fucker. 

“Are you sure you don’t want a joint birthday party?” 

The whole table turned and normally, Ten wouldn’t mind the attention. Then, however, his legs wanted nothing more than to bolt out of there. 

“Nope.” in hopes of making the situation somewhat lighter, Ten shook his head, lips pursed. 

“Not even for the present?” Doyoung nudged him on the arm. 

“Unless you can gift me, I don’t know, an entire island.”

“We could give you that, but would you be happy?” Yuta asked, tipping his bottle to the black haired.

“I mean, I’d rather cry in a hammock while watching sunset in paradise than in my bathtub.”

“This is super sad, Ten, you are going to make me cry.” Taeyong whined, already shedding drunk tears against Yuta’s neck.

It didn’t take much to stop Taeyong crying, after all, the guy had the two sweetest boyfriends Ten had ever seen. And the Thai boy, well, he had his soju and a very bad perception of how drunk it could actually get him. 

“Hey, I know!” The rise in volume alerted Ten that it was time to cut Doyoung off. “We should celebrate the day Ten gets his results. So he’ll have something to celebrate besides his birthday.”

After that, he leaned his head on his arms and took a nap.

Practice doesn’t make perfect, because Ten couldn’t count the amount of times he’d carried Doyoung home, and it still was a whole odyssey. 

Kun looked only mildly annoyed, as he started at the scene of a tiny Ten struggling with a lanky and drunk Doyoung. The microwave singing in the middle of the silence.

  
  
  


It’s like the world is ending. 

The ground under his feet feels like crumbling down wherever he steps. So he learns how to fly. Puts his arms up, let’s them fall to his sides and looks up. As if waiting for reckoning, for a sign, for a light. Only when he feels the light on top of him, descending.

Ten moves. 

Dancing is like the world is ending and beginning again. Like a supernova is happening around him, stars and space waste, all turning too bright to look, too hot to touch. They fly around him, and he turns into nebulas and satellites. He orbits and falls into place. 

It started when he was around three. Cartoons and silly songs, and Ten standing in front of the shitty television, in the cramped living room. The afternoon sun somewhere in the distance and his sister doing her homework in the room next to him. 

The walls were paper thin but she never complained. She was always his dance partner. 

Disney princess always had their happy ending with their happy dance. Ten just wanted a happy ending. But, until then, he just stuck to happy dancing. 

“Easy on that ending pose, Yongie.” Ten warned.

The older nodded, his face still scrunched up in a grimace of pain. Purple didn’t suit Taeyong’s knees, even less when it was due to dancing. If Ten was silver, Taeyong was gold.

“How are you feeling?” In the waves, the question sounded ragged, insecure.

Ten shrugged. “Better.” After checking his phone (and feeling bvile in his chest as the PDF file spring back to life) he added. “It’s just a project after all.”

“No one expects you to do anything you don’t want to.” Taeyong reassures. “We all poke fun at it, but seeing how much it actually destabilised you, maybe you should give it a hard pass.”

“I want to pass, though.” Accepting the bottle, Ten drank two full swings.

“No I meant.” Shoving his friend softly, Taeyong gifted him a smile. “Then, you will.” Standing back up, he finished. “Besides, you two could become good friends, who knows?”

“I know you are trying like, really hard, Yongie.” Ten said, hand on his friend’s knee. “But I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

Taeyong nodded, a pursed smile and a wink making the younger feel relieved, understood. 

Now it was time for Ten to understand it too.

  
  
  


They say when you fall in love you see the world through rose tinted lens.

And fair enough, Johnny was wearing rose tinted sunglasses at the club. 

It was Valentine's Day, and Jaehyun was back to clubbing with them for his birthday. A lot to celebrate.

But the point here, is that the entire club was decorated in pink. Pink balloons, metallic bands from corner to corner, pink lights, and hearts on the screens.

That was too much, even for mister romance himself.

However, if that wasn’t enough, love was in the air. No, not physically, but almost.

Taeil was suddenly pulling him through the crowd, rushed and so completely far gone in his sober state, that made the taller worry.

“What the fuc-” he began, when they stopped by the fire escape.

“Kun is here.” Before Johnny could stretch his neck to check, Taeil pushed him back down. “Don’t look. Johnny, I want to leave.”

“So soon?” A new voice yelled over the speakers. 

Two figures appeared from the crowd. Still, Johnny could only focus on the smaller of the pair. 

It was pink. It was bound to be pink. In movies and in books. Never in real life. Especially when, in Johnny’s mind, the boy was lavender. 

“Kun.” Taeil all but breathed out. “What a coincidence.”

The conversation blurred as time passed and Johnny got to see the boy properly. And before his mind to mouth filter could as much as turn on, he spoke. “I know you.”

Perhaps the pointing was unnecessary, but again, no filter. It seemed to distract the love birds from their own world, Kun turning to the aforementioned friend. 

“Ah, yeah this is my friend Ten. We are here to celebrate his and my friend’s birthday.”

Ten.

The holy number. 

The lights reflected a pink where they hit on Ten’s hair. Like a halo.

Johnny stretched his hand. “A pleasure, I’m Johnny.” The other’s hand was small, shaking a little. He paid no mind. “Johnny Suh.”

The shorter seem to freeze at that, taking a beat to long to reply. “Pleasure is all mine.”

“Wait, Johnny?” Suddenly Kun turned to his friend, slapping him on the chest, to which Ten didn’t react. “Is that the name on your mail.”

The whole universe might as well have lost its axis.

Ten.

The mail. 

_ After checking the results of the quizzes, I’ve concluded that TEN (Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul) would be the most compatible partner for the project. _

Ten’s eyes widened, mouth open ajar. One second is all it took for him to scan Johnny up and down. “We met at the museum the other day.” he said finally, licking his lips afterwards.

Johnny noticed. Of course he did. One drink in wouldn’t make him lose or forget such sight.

“Kun, I really have to go.” The shorter was fully looking at his friend again, now with despair in his features.

Ouch? 

Johnny’s brain took a deep dive into a sea of questions and worries as he saw the other gathering his stuff and leaving. Was he bolting because he hadn’t liked Johnny back in the museum? After all, they had the same class, how come didn’t Ten approach him? Was it because Johnny was always sitting at the front? Was it the beanie? He hadn’t worn since Taeil told him so. Maybe he never noticed him in the first place. Maybe _ he _ wanted to forget him. 

“I’m going to check on Jaehyun.” and with that, he left the two birds to resolve whatever they had going on.

Which wasn’t much, yet.

Spending the night next to the fellow February boy didn’t seem so unappealing, until Johnny spotted him swinging his hips with a new boy. Black hair, tank top, eyeliner. Eyeliner? Woah. Jaehyun  _ did _ have a type.

So yeah, not even two drinks in, and Johnny decided to call it a night.

  
  
  


Some people should be celebrated, Ten didn’t think he falls into that category.

Looking at the plain white ceiling, Ten sighed, somehow missing the glow in the dark stickers he begged his mom to buy when he was seven. Never too brave to admit his fear of the dark, Ten learned to hide his fears behind glowing stickers. Or between the pages of his sketchbook. 

Endings. Those made his skin perk and want to crawl out of his body.

They chased him in every nightmare, clawing their way to his ankles, making him fall face first and promptly wake up before they could chew his skull open. Endings and void. 

When one is seven years old, they don’t have a name yet. But the fear is still there. 

So, birthdays were never easy for Ten. Pictures show him always frowning, pouting, bored or stuffing his little round face in cake. That was the best part, the cake. He hated the song, the claps, even the presents.

When one is seven, one doesn’t know why.

But Ten was twenty two then. And he knew.

One step closer to the end. Always suffering three decades in advance. Hence making him guard himself, prepare for the worst case scenario and brace himself for impact. 

It worked for two decades, hadn’t it.

He’d told Kun, Doyoung hugging his own knees against his chest. Fresh out of freshman year, fresh out of everything, but the sticky heat covered the apartment. 

“When you spend all your life surrounded by comments pushing you down, people who kill off your motivation and love for your hobbies. It just does things for your self-esteem.”

Bullshit.

But it served as a good enough excuse to his only two friends. They didn’t say much. Ten didn’t need to hear it. They just decided to keep Ten’s birthday on the down low for the next few years.

Until senior year. 

Everything would have been fine if they just have gone without him. Hell, Netflix was a good enough plan for his twenty-second birthday. However, he had been swayed by the love his friend group had for him. Once in a lifetime, that’s for sure.

So he’d gone. Foolish and hopeful. Perhaps marking the beginning of an end.

_ Johnny Suh _ . 

God it felt raspy against his tongue. Everything could have been fine.

But fate is one sick monster. 

Phone turned over like poker cards, resting until the next move. 

Seconds ticked and minutes passed, hours remained because he wasn’t losing his mind. Oh no, his mind remained intact, busying itself with memories he’d sworn he would forget. Memories of intertwined fingers and empty promises. Chewing and sour, chewing and toxic. 

Endings. Nothing was meant to last.

Fate was one sick monster that loved to uncap geysers of traumas Ten was sure he had covered up years ago. 

Birthdays. Cute boys that would break his heart. Even nature disappeared. Life wasn’t without endings.

All in a span of one night.

He saw red in the darkness.

Jolting awake from the dreadful day dream, Ten launched for his discarded phone. 

All the fears, all the broken strings that formed once his trust laid bare amidst the pixels of the text sent to his now fake partner.

**ten:** Meet me tomorrow at the diner. Lunch time.

  
  


Like a band-aid: quick and simple. 

He had to get rid of that feeling, set things straight with the guy and make this project as professional as they could both manage. All without bringing up his sob story, because he wasn’t going to bare himself for a stranger like that.

Ten had everything figured out as the rain poured outside, poking the window next to him. Maybe arriving one hour before the scheduled hour hadn’t been the smartest idea, but he hated being late too. 

When the door slid open behind his back, a shiver running all the way down to the chair as the cool air snook in, Ten sat straighter. As if said winter breeze had whispered it to him, he could tell the ambience had changed. 

Sweet and musky, just like everyone else. 

But with a stupid yellow beanie. 

“Hey.”

It pissed him off. 

Something inside Ten’s mind absolutely despised how familiar it sounded, how easy it came out from the taller’s mouth. It was like a needle stabbing his finger, at first it was just a mere sting. A fraction of a second. Then it bled warm and crimson. 

Realisation that was. Because the guy putting his camera aside as he sat down, shy smile on his face, the boy with his lip curving so naturally as if he was born to do it. The cupids bow so deep Ten could probably fit a bucket of flowers in it. Gentle leather eyes looking back at him. 

Ten had seen them all before. 

He had seen them all surrounded by colorful brush strokes of oil paint. A kaleidoscope of impressionism.

The boy.

_ Johnny. _ Ten corrected himself.

Suh Johnny.

Johnny Suh. 

Hipster with a yellow beanie, and a big ass camera. Bumping into people.

There had to be a mistake.

“How are you, runaway bride?” 

Guess not. 

They say it’s butterflies. They feel like bees. Buzzing and fumbling all over, one bad move and they sting. Ten hated them. Each and every single one of them, because they were used to his stomach. They loved to set their hive in Ten, making him feel things he wasn’t ready for. 

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. 

Reminded himself of the reason why he was here. The band-aid.

Trying to find his words should have been easy. They always popped up easy, wittiness had brought him where he was at. 

But it was Johnny.

With his beanie. Now used as a fidget tool between Johnny’s fingers.

So when he opened his eyes, Ten sighed. Hating how his body melted against the chair. Hated the smile tugging at his lips when their eyes met, and the sensation of something warm pooling inside of him. Pouring from his heard and coating him whole. 

“What did you want to talk about?” Johnny asked.

Joyful as a cat with a new toy, embraced between the light hanging close to the table and the rain outside. Beauty and mundane all at once and yet something in between.

_ I’m scared of what might happen. Of what’s happening. Why is this happening? Why do I keep letting it happen? _

“I don’t want to do this project.”

  
  
  


That was surprising.

Truth be told, Johnny was not expecting such outcome from that meeting. Rather, he’d hope to get to know his partner better, have a good chit chat so they could get started with their daily reports already. Dissertation was ticking closer and closer, so getting rid of stuff first and foremost was more than appealing.

Instead he was presented with that sentence. Perhaps calling it a slap on the face fell too harsh, but it did have the same sound to Johnny’s ears. He was slapped once when during his intergalactic dragon slayer wanna be years, breaking an ashtray during a family dinner was a high price to pay. 

Ten’s ice were as icy as those pieces of glass scattered on the floor. Staring at him with the same underlying mockery and defiance. 

Johnny had cried then, broom in hand.

Now he has nothing to lose. “Who's your favourite impressionist painter?” he asked as he poured them both water. “Mine’s Sorolla.”

When looking up to the other, Johnny could catch a glimpse of all the emotions that went through Ten’s face. Rage, frustration, confusion. He settled for curiosity, crossing his arms and leaning back. He was going to play the game.

He had nothing to lose either. 

“I’ve yet to see someone capture the mediterranean light like him.” the boy stated. 

“You haven’t answered my question.” Johnny pointed out.

“You didn’t answer me first.”

His knee bounced as he looked away. It wasn’t annoyance, well, just a little bit. Maybe Ten wasn’t going to play his game after all.

“I just don’t know what to tell you.” Johnny shrugged. “You don’t want to do the project, what can I do about it?”

“Are you not going to ask why?” 

After gulping down almost all his water, Johnny poured himself some more, apparently not looking at the other helped him organize his thoughts better. There was something in those cat-like eyes, that made the taller lose his vanishing point. Everything turned into a blur, slipping from his hands.

“Would you tell me if I asked?” As an answer, Ten avoided his gaze, which he had been holding like a champ. “So, what’s your plan?”

“I don’t know, Miss Lovewood said we could just not do it.”

This was fucking unbelievable. Ten, engulfed in his sweater, low fringe and aloof personality, didn’t seem like someone who goes about life without a plan. Everyone had a plan, even if their plan was to fuck with plans. 

So, Johnny scoffed “If our partner treats us like shit, yeah.” 

Ten pressed the buzzer then, a waitress making her way to their table. And Johnny really was trying to put the pieces that made Ten together. The boy was just a fucking enigma, and Johnny had left the decoder at home.

“What are you going to have?”

“You explain to me what should we do instead, hopefully.” Turning slightly, he looked up. “And a Double Cheese Burger with spicy french fries and a cherry soda, thanks.”

After noting Ten’s order down as well, the waitress bowed and left. 

“I just want to pass this subject and move to my final year.” Ten started again, not changing his tone. “I won’t let a stupid report on fake dating stop me from graduating.”

“Still not answering my question.” 

Ten closed his eyes, clearly frustrated. Which was unfair because Johnny was the one getting dumped (fake dumped) without any explanation. His hand were brushing his hair back before he could even think twice.

“I’m saying we could just fake the results.” Ten offered Johnny a napkin out of courtesy, before adding. “With your help of course.”

“So, let me get this right, you want to fake a whole bonding experience.”

Ten smirked. It was almost ridiculous howwho well that little gesture suited him. To be fair, anything could suit him as long as it sat on that perfect perky nose.

“I’ve done worse.”

It was that voice. That tone. Even Johnny himself could smell the vodka behind it, the sweetness so caramelly it was almost salty. The sourness of the lemon chasing something beyond Ten or Johnny or all the diner. That was the something.

That was what Johnny would hold onto.

“Oh don’t leave it like that, Ten. The people want to know.”

  
  
  


Spring lanterns danced in the wind, the very first shy ones scattered around the city, clapping softly through the night. They were supposed to guide Budha towards the people, but for now they were just guiding a couple of guys. Stomachs full and light steps.

When silence fell again, Johnny’s back too far away to even distinguish it, Ten realised that Johnny’s laughter sounded like those lanterns. Like those paper stripes in the wind.

Sighing, Ten thought that maybe he could do this.

Fake dating.

He’d done worse.

  
  
  


Johnny woke up with a light headache and a text message this time. Not about the decisions he took last night, like going to the club past midnight to meet his already drunk friends. Or ending up blowing a dude in the bathroom.

This time he was smiling fondly at the words. Which was a lot for a Sunday morning.

**ten:** maybe you were right, faking the results would be too obvious, and it also kinda unfair for you 

**johnny:** you left your scarf at the place, they called last night at closing time

**ten:** will you ever reply to what i say

**johnny:** i love when you get mad, babe

**ten:** i already regret this

**johnny:** thank you for taking me into consideration. i’ll give you back your scarf tomorrow

**ten:** cool

And it was purple. 

If Johnny had been a painter he would have used purple on Ten the first time he saw him. It just suited him: not too dark, not too intense, yet not too bright, not too sore for the eyes.

But Johnny wasn’t a painter, he could merely enjoy the lavender of the other’s sweater. 

  
  
  
  
  


Monday was white noise. Like the bathroom vent Jaehyun always left on, making their light bill skyrocket at the end of the month. Mondays were a nuisance, but just like every beginning is, truly. There’s a little bit of motivation underlying in the most positive hearts, and Johnny would love to think he was one of them. Sometimes, it was too much. Positivity was heavy and he had been skipping on his gym sessions as of lately.

Their campus consisted of ten different buildings, plus the dorms and the different sports fields and small stadiums. So that meant ten different rooftops, which translated to ten different beautiful stops for Johnny to enjoy his morning coffee.

Fine dust covered the air like an old blanket, but no one seemed to quite know how to shake it off. So it lingered there, softly yellow against the mountains and the skyscrapers. 

His phone buzzed softly in his hold. 

**ten:** which building was it again?

Mondays were tedious. However, the sun was shining from behind the smoke and perhaps some beginnings aren’t as harsh as Johnny would have thought.

Come to think of it, fate truly works its ways, doesn’t it? Only but a smile was left in Johnny’s lips, a trace of his train of thought that started back in a dimly lit museum. And finished with the soft cotton resting on his lap, one distracted hand caressing it absentmindedly.

With a metal clinking and a human groan, the door opened behind Johnny.

“Why is this so heavy?” Mumbled Ten, as he struggled to keep his cup and phone in one sweater-covered hand. “Hi.”

Breathless and strained, like the voice got caught in his throat by some sort of trap. It made Johnny chuckle, squinting a little in order to see the other in his blinding wake. All whisker smiles and winking the sun away.

“Hey yourself.” The taller greeted as he followed the other with his gaze.

Sighing as he sat on the chair facing Johnny, Ten took in the view. Normally people would just stick out their phone, trying to capture the contrast of the city: mountains against buildings, the dusty blanket and the sun. Not Ten, apparently. The boy just stood there, taking deep inhales (not recommendable with such air quality), and easy grin on his face.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Johnny asked, hoping the other knew what he was talking about.

He did. 

Nodding and looking some more, Ten didn’t let his smile flatter. Not that it didn’t suit him. A unique smile, that was, and it should be his duty to show it off for the world to wonder and marvel about it. 

“Did we have to meet so early in the morning?” The shorter asked, turning to face him. And Johnny looked closer, which he did, he could see old leather colored highlights in Ten’s hair.

As if reflecting the sun, absorbing it, his black hair goldening if that was even a verb, against the muted rays. Like he was being combed by them. 

“The early bird gets the worm.” 

Ten sipped his drink after letting out a disgusted sound, mumble about how disgusting worms are under his breath. 

“First and foremost, this is our first day as a couple.” Johnny announced, hands splayed as if he was displaying a newfound, invisible creature. 

“Exciting.” Ten deadpanned.

“It is, I’m a great boyfriend.” And yeah, sue him, he was pouting.

“We’ll see about that.” Not affected by the pouting, Ten took another sip. Johnny was mildly offended, but swallowed down his pride. 

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you aren’t a little tiny bitsy bit intrigued by me.” 

“You like museums, Sorolla, taking pictures, yellow beanies and iced americanos in the middle of February.” Ten listed pointing at the last item with a nod. “I think I know you plenty.”

“You got the core things about me right, but” Johnny pointed, finger in the air. “That’s not all, folks.”

“I’d be madly disappointed if it was.” Ten crossed his arms on the table, an invisible wall but lower, like a fence. Johnny had jumped fences before. Even moreso when a shy smile like Ten’s was waiting for him on the other side.

“So, you are intrigued.” 

“Never said that.” Ten stretched then, leaning his entire body against the backrest of the chair, arms up in the air as long and far as they went. “I just said that I’d be disappointed.”

When the air hit his face, Johnny realised he had been leaning in unconsciously, his chin resting on his hand. Before his mind could go on override about taking or not his hand away, Ten spoke again.

“Now that’s out of the way, I’ll take back my scarf.”

“Oh yeah, right.” Johnny looked down on his lap where his hands had been toying with the fabric of the scarf. “I’ve been thinking, by the way.”

And with that he handed the item to its owner, who after thanking Johnny with the softest tone, mumbled. “Glad to know you can do that.”

Small scoff escaped Johnny’s throat “Rude. But yeah, I was thinking how come we didn’t notice each other before.” At Ten’s confusion he added. “In class I mean, yellow beanies are rare in these parts.”

“I thought the beanie was gray, the first time I saw it.” Ten said simply. “Also, you cease to realise I hate early morning classes, I’m too focused on not falling asleep while taking notes to notice anyone.”

“Not even the cutest guy in the class?”

“Stop acting, Jonathan, you aren’t good at it.” Ten rolled his eyes. “Besides, I am the cutest.”

A hiccup got caught in his throat. Something about those words made him lose his breath. However, there was no time to ponder over them. That was the whole dynamic between the two, he realised: quick wit and sarcasm.

“Should I be a mysterious boyfriend then? Charming one? Cheesy? Oh boy, I could be so cheesy I’d make all those male leads look horri-”

“Just be yourself, John.” Ten rolled his eyes, wrapping his neck with the purple scarf. “Did you go back to the restaurant to get it?”

“Yeah, of course. How else would have I gotten it back?” 

Sometimes people blink. Woah, fascinating observation by Johnny Suh himself, amazing contribution to mankind. But, they did. In the worst times possible at that too. Thinking it’s just a small fraction of a second, in the bigger scheme of things, it won’t matter. And it’s true, but humans are greedy and stupid and they don’t know when is the perfect time to blink.

Because Johnny could have been stupid enough to blink then. Hence missing it. Missing how Ten buried his pretty nose behind his scarf, finging being cold. Purple and pink never went together, according to his mom, but they did now. Purple against blushed cheeks had never looked better. 

Johnny let himself bathe in the moment, in the feeling of making those whiskers taint peachy. Even if it was for a fraction of a second.

  
  
  
  


Official Week One went without much to offer. They went to their classes after the coffee, not quite talking about making plans for later. Ten just didn’t want to, and he guessed Johnny was holding back. Maybe taking it to heart the whole not overdoing it thing. However, their interactions were good enough for the daily report. A diary-like essay which presented a few questions about the day and the partner. 

Ten feared it would look monotonous, but they weren’t a real couple. Shrugging at the thought, his eyes tried to focus on the blank page in front of him, pen tapping against his hand bone as he thought.

The ink was mocking him from where it was curled and straight reading the date. 

Closing his eyes, Ten searched in his mind. He searches between lenses and kaleidoscopes, and slopes under noses and deer eyes. Voices of raspy baritone and sure streams, confidence wrapped in a blanket of a cheek dimple. All topped with a beanie.

And Ten started writing. 

Wrist cramping and black ink taking over. He didn’t even know what he was saying, didn’t even care if it mattered. None of this would be typed in. This was for him and himself only. Some sort of venting. Some sort of complaining and hatred. Towards himself, towards toxic waste and towards Johnny. 

How there was air whenever he spoke, like the tiniest breeze perked up on his wake and it made the entire room lighter. The scene where Perseus meets Medusa at the beach, but Johnny didn’t have snakes in his hair. He didn’t have boa constrictors around Ten’s neck. Instead, the boy wore a goddamn beanie.

Taeyong had gifted him a candle for christmas, still lazily burning on the corner of his desk. It was supposed to smell like the rain, but it smelled like an embrace he never wanted to part from. 

Ten ripped the piece of paper and held it against the lit flame. Contemplating as it started eating the words, one by one then whole sentences. He saw every single shaky stroke in a language that tasted like home, saw all of it not mattering. It didn’t matter. The fire didn’t care. 

When it burned his fingers, Ten dropped the burned paper. The flame died down.

He turned to his computer and started typing. Fingers light as if he had been drinking, his mind focusing on the mole Johnny was sporting on his neck. 

Nothing mattered. 

Ten could do this.

  
  
  


“Pizza.” 

Johnny nodded at the word. It wasn’t even a question, the other was merely stating what was on top of the table. 

“It’s Tuesday.”

Tilting his head, the taller still didn’t give the other a response. Just more munching and eyebrows furrowed. 

“Why are you eating pizza for lunch on a Tuesday?” Ten finally dropped his belongings in the chair closer to the hallway, choosing the seat next to the wall and in front of Johnny.

“Why not?” The elder simply replied with a shrug, lips curling upwards as he took yet another bite. “I saved you a whole half. On the house.”

“And they say chivalry is dead.” Ten replied rolling his sleeves up. “Thank you.”

It didn’t take Johnny by surprise. People thank each other every day, from thank you for opening the door for me, thank you for the lighter, so on and so forth. However, as it always is, it was the way Ten’s voice softened. Like freshly dried cotton. Johnny wanted to stuff it in his cheeks like he had been dared to play chubby bunny.

But for now, pizza would have to do.

“I hope pepperoni is fine?”

“Pepperoni is great.” And with that Ten was chasing after a string of cheese with his mouth. 

Curiosity. 

Late at night, insomnia coming again like an old friend with a pillow and blanket, a slumber party for two. And just like in middle school, no sleeping was allowed until the body is so exhausted it can only shut down. During those nights, when hours were nothing but a mixed dough in the space-time quantum, Johnny realised:

He was curious. 

Not easy to pass, that nature was, really. Waking up when his sense of reason did. Touching and screaming and crying because who knew the lamp was so hot? Johnny was a curious child and, like the saying goes: curiosity killed the cat. 

Shouldn’t come as a shock really, that he stopped to stare just for a second too long. 

See how those damn whiskers all but poked him while he ate, like a chipmunk, or a hamster. The list could go on, could Johnny’s mind stop in one place.

But it didn’t. Never did. Photography had helped in that. Focusing on one figure. One at the time.

Ten’s fingers as he picked another piece. Lips as they suck around the grease.

Johnny looked away.

“Any plans for today?” The younger asked suddenly. 

“Not really. Just dissertation, and job hunting I guess.”

Ten let out a low whistle. “Oh wow, look at you adulting.”

Scoffing, Johnny put down his glass. “More like trying not to have a panic attack at the mere thought of being one.” Passing Ten a paper tissue he inquired. “What about you, dearest?”

“Do not.” The shorter threatened, eyes piercing for a split second. “Dance practice.”

“Should have figured you danced.” Johnny sighed.

“What does that even mean?”

Chuckling at how defensive he sounded, indignant even, the taller shook his head. “It means you have, the vibe for it?”

“Just say you noticed my athletic body, Johnathan.”

If he had anything on his mouth, Johnny might have choked.“Any other hobbies?”

“Drawing.” Came nonchalant and easy. 

Johnny’s eyes widened, leaning towards the younger on the other side of the table. “You are kidding.”

“Can you just take people’s word when they speak?” Ten’s eyebrows shot up, but didn’t stay long before he looked bored again.

“Then show me.” 

It sounded like a dare, it was meant to be pleas.

“Be nice.”

“Please?” Johnny even put his hands out, begging.

“I don’t know if you are worthy of seeing my sketchbook.” pretending to think very hard about it, Ten tapped his chin with his own finger, eyes looking at the ceiling.

Johnny ignored the weird beat his heart did.

“I literally bought you a pizza.” 

“Half.” Ten pointed used the same finger. His smile was intoxicating, his eyes glistening when looking up to say. “Soon.”

“Deal.”

  
  
  


An image is worth a thousand words, they say. And Johnny would have to agree. How could he describe something so complex as Ten. He’d say purple. Purple would be a good word. 

Because, you see, the color itself has a lot of tones: deep prune, lavender, pink undertones, red undertones, blue undertones. You name it. 

And so did Ten. He held so much in him, so many small paint strokes gathered in his open arms, they overflew from his embrace. All over the floor. 

A thousand tones. Johnny wanted to see them all. Name them. Capture them. 

His resolve only growing every since the museum incident. Captivated by the light shining through the array of purples. 

So Johnny goes to good old iCloud, copies and pastes the picture into the document, and calls it a day.

  
  
  


“He’s cool I guess, we text constantly.” 

“That sounds like a friend.” 

“I would call him that, yes.”

A booming bass echoed through the dressing room, even though no one could really tell where it was coming from. 

“Does he know this is a project?”

“For my own sake, I hope he does.”

“You good, little padawan?”

“I’m only two centimeters shorter than you.” Before Taeyong could show him four fingers and correct him, Ten continued. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Don’t tell me you are nervous.” 

Ten’s eyes betrayed him, before his wits could get the reigns of his reply. Which was enough to make Taeyong beam. Fucking beam. The asshole. The taller jumped up and down, like a goddamn bunny, around the water purifier chanting something childish like ‘Ten has a crush’. Which was absolute bullshit, no one gets a crush with just what? three encounters.

“Are you five?”

“Perhaps.” Taeyong poked Ten’s cheeks. “But you are nervous because a very handsome boy is coming to pick you up, and said handsome boy tickles your fancy.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Oh? I’m sorry? Mister ‘men are cancelled because I’m tired of being hurt and I’ll retire in a cave when I turn thirty’. No, better yet. Mister ‘I’m not coming out of my room because an asshole treated me badly and the world isn’t worth it anymore.’ Now nervous about a boy? I’d say it is a pretty big deal.”

“To the point, Taeyong, please.”

“I’m just saying, let yourself feel. You two are going to get close, so if you think it’s worth your time, go for it. After you guys like, get your grades or something.”

“I did.” Ten interrupted. “Let myself feel. Look how it all ended.”

“But?” Taeyong egged him. Fuck him for knowing Ten so well.

“But I can’t deny I’m…”

“Interested?”

“Curious.”

  
  
  


“You really need to stop dropping this everywhere.” Johnny said softly, his words turning into steam in front of him. 

Ten still didn’t know why he was standing so still. He guessed being taking care every once in awhile felt nice. So he let Johnny tie his scarf around his neck, soft fabric around his neck. The fabric gathering small droplets from his freshly showered hair. 

“Thank you.” This time it was muffled by the scarf. 

There was always some sort of shield between him and those words. 

“Any time.” 

Ten had to look away.

There were so many stars in Johnny’s eyes and he had forgotten his star map at home. 

So, he turned to his friend, looking at the scene with expectant eyes and his mouth open agape. Like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, yet he was absorbing everything like a sponge. 

“He is Taeyong, my dance partner and my friend.”

“Best friend.” Taeyong corrected, coming closer to shake Johnny’s hand. “A pleasure.”

“Again with that shit.”

“You said Kun was your platonic soulmates, so I’m claiming the best friend spot.”

“So which one am I to claim?” Johnny said eyes rising upwards.

“Annoying overgrown puppy, now let’s go.” Ten rolled his eyes, pushing the taller away from where he was leaning, nudging his arm.

Taeyong waved them off, phone in hand calling up Yuta. 

Half a minute before Johnny mercilessly pinched Ten’s middle, making him yelp in the middle of the dimly lit street. His thirst for vengeance fell flat on his numb fingers when they reached the subway entrance. Johnny was still giggling when he scanned his transportation card, but turned to wait for the other. Triumphant and glowing.

Annoying overgrown puppy sounds about right, Ten concluded to himself.

  
  
  


With a rusty creek, Ten dragged the stool from under the bar. Steamy bowl of ramen resting on top of it, softly bubbling, the lid firmly pressed closed by Ten’s wallet and phone.

“It’s just that Taeil is a tough bone.” Johnny let out in an exhale, strained and slightly frustrated as the only thing they were allowed to do is talk about it. Never interfere.

“I wanted to push him against Taeil in the damn club, but I adore being alive.” 

Ten looked at his reflection on the window wall in front of him. Damp hair quickly drying due to the heat of the store, his hair becoming tousled and his hands frantically trying to remedy what was about to become a nest.

Fogging up around the edges, Ten would admit the store wasn’t his ideal place to spend a Friday night. Yet, he didn’t seem to mind, it was calm, warm and cheaper than any restaurant. Besides, he was growing used to the conversations with Johnny.

Not that he’d admit that out loud. Something told him, the taller already knew. 

“So,” Johnny started again, stirring his ramen. “I knew you said soon, but you really got me curious.”

Ten looked up from where he was slurping his noodles, brain too squished around choroes to function properly. Then the bulb lit up. “Oh.” he said around the noodles.

After rummaging through sweaty clothes and damp towels, he found the small notebook.

Before handing it to Johnny’s awaiting hands, Ten pulled back, swallowing his food. Johnny’s expression dropped into an expectant one. “This is one of my most precious belongings. I hope you treat it with respect.”

“I shall handle it like a sacred object.”

Satisfied with the answer, Ten gave him the object, yet his nerves didn’t calm down. Ten wasn’t good with criticism, thus meaning he might be very upset, but never confront the other in case Johnny said something bad. He had never learned to step up and fight for his works. Just nod and try to be better without reproaching. 

Eventually, he decided to ignore the sound of pages being turn, to focus on his food. Spice kicked him in the back of his throat, and he swallowed the burn. Trying to get rid of his nerves with it.

“Ten.” Johnny called with a stunned voice. So unusual from him, like all the power in his voice had been erased.

Like something or someone had pinched away every self assured, cocky and sarcasm left in Johnny’s tongue. Leaving him with a voice like sheets on a sunny sunday morning. Ten tried not to tuck himself in it. But then, Johnny spoke again, now looking straight into Ten’s eyes.

“Ten, these are so fucking good. And I’m not saying this just to be polite, I am a bad liar.” Johnny turned yet another page. “They are incredible, your technique is so good.” It sounded like he was mumbling to himself, but clearly wanted the other to hear.

“You are a bad actor, not a bad liar.”

“I am.” Johnny quickly defended, eyes glued on a portrait. “My voice gets all high pitched.” 

It wasn’t his best work, portraits. The curse of the other eye, and the shadowing was never quite right. However, the air smelled like broth and it was thick, just like his tongue. No word would come out as Johnny kept flipping the pages. 

The gaze in his honey orbs should have made him even more self-conscious, analytical and cold. Thing is, they weren’t. They were soft and tender, and almost like they were always. To Ten’s memory.

“You have so much talent, Ten. I mean it.”

“Thank you.” Ten said at least, a fluttering breath mixing with the steam of his noodles as he kept eating. “Your noodles are going to go cold.”

“It’s fine.”

Only when he went for another bite himself, Ten realised his smile was gum-showing wide. And his gaze had not moved from the other’s figure.

There was no comment on the matter during the rest of the night.

  
  
  


Ten was half way through his worn out sketchbook when a weight shifted next to him. The whole couch complaining with the added burden of holding yet another body, yet, that’s the only sound coming from the room for a while.

Perfume and silk pajamas against Ten’s old sweats, Doyoung’s trademark, but this time sporting an uncharacteristic silence. Instead, he joined his roommate, contemplating the sketches. A wordless agreement that art was to be contemplated in silence. 

Their agreements actually, all involved silence: their silent first weeks as roommates, silent treatment after an argument, and silence after midnight because the walls weren’t keen on keeping once privacy. Silence about the night of the incident. That secret would follow them beyond their deathbed. 

Doyoung offered to hold the right side of the notebook with a hand half stretched, Ten accepted, the sketches now between both their thighs. 

The leather was already fake to begin with, but it was now flaky under Ten’s touch after so many years. It was a trophy of sorts. A living and physical prove that he could do something, complete something. Commit to it until the end.

Lines as brush strokes, smaller, thinner then thicker on the shadows. It was simple anatomy for the most part, the beginning of a journey starting with the basics. From hands to arms to collarbones. Once that was done and over and overdone, he ventured into more detailed things. From shadows to movement. He wanted to capture it all with his amateur hands. 

Then liners. Liners had been a good addition. Liners and somewhat abstract. 

Sometimes pausing for months, others filling up pages within hours. He wasn’t constant, but he refused to give up. He made a promise to himself, even if he hadn’t realised, when he first laid his pencil on the first page. 

“You showed this to Johnny?”

Ten only nodded with a hum. It had been rather spontaneous. He could have just grabbed his Ipad, where his most recent works were. But, the afternoon sun had set on the object resting on his desk, always present if sometimes forgotten. And there was a pull. Like his feet the first time he stepped into the ballet studio. 

His hands had reached for it before he could give said urge a meaning.

“These are really good.”

Ten hummed as a reply. 

“If everything fails, you can always open an etsy shop. Or a gallery.” Doyoung closed the notebook after they reached its last page. 

“As if that would even give me enough to stay alive for a day.” Ten grabbed the elastic band and wrapped around the notebook, closing it for good.

“Thank God magazines will fight to have your articles in their issues and websites.”

Getting up, suddenly feeling giggidy in a very strange way, Ten made his way to the kitchen, merely three steps away from the living room. Not that three college students could afford a bigger apartment. 

“Speak it to existence, Doie.” Came tiredly from where the boy was getting himself some cereals. 

“What did Johnny say about them?” Asked the taller from the door frame.

“Does it matter?” Not even turning around, the shorter stopped his movements. Suddenly not hungry anymore.

“I guess it doesn’t.”

Putting the box back in its cabinet, Ten could feel his friend’s gaze on him as he moved around the kitchen, stopping in front of the small window to look outside at the dark veil of the night.

Silence.

Comfortable and understanding.

Ten turned around.

“I’m not crazy, am I?”

“You know the saying, we all are a little crazy.” Doyoung said pushing himself from where he was leaning. “But if you want to take advice from someone who has two boyfriends:” he walked to stand in front Ten, arms crossed. Face as bare as it came. Honest. “I’d say you aren’t. Trust me, I’d know.”

Kun’s head poked out from the same door Doyoung had been standing just a moment ago. “You two were so quiet I thought you had gone to sleep.” he whispered.

The couple shuffled to accommodate their roommate, as he was coming closer stretching with droopy eyes. 

“What were you two doing so secretly?”

“Ten was looking at his sketches.” Doyoung commented.

“I showed them to Johnny.”

Kun turned to look at him. “Oh, Ten.”

The shorter bit his lip. “Don’t start, Kun.” But before he could even let the brunette start, he rushed to his room. 

  
  
  


“As you know, I’m a man of my word.” 

It was weird. Johnny thought Ten would close himself off because of the distance, short but significance. He was prepared to put effort and make it up for the time lost. Almost a week. Good morning and good night texts, some random conversations scattered through the days. It was the beginning of an end, and Johnny feared for the worst.

No need, he realised as Ten clapped enthusiastically and reached out for the file holder. 

He giggled.

“Please don’t be mean.”

“You think so low of me.” Ten clutched his chest, and his act would have been more profound had he been looking at the other.

Yet, his eyes were glued on the folder, fully covered in stickers.

Slender, small fingers flipped the pages silently. The lack of response made Johnny want to lean in, try to find anything: a flinch, dilated pupils. Anything. Instead, the willpower of his rationality took the reigns and he stood where he was. Even though his legs were extremely long to be on the swings, he couldn’t say no to meet up at a playground.

He just couldn’t.

So when the taller found himself full on swingin like a five year old child, he didn’t stop it. Lips curled upwards and eyes closed, cold wind against his cheeks. And maybe that’s why he had said yes.

“Johnny.” Called the other suddenly.

Rocking to a stop, the elder focused on the still very much poker face of the younger. His album was back on his lap, and Ten was jumping out from the swings.

“Ten?” Johnny imitated him, waddling where the other stood. “What are you doing?”

“It’s golden hour, isn’t it?” the shorter had one eye closed, the sun setting behind Johnny’s back. “Take a picture of me.”

“What?”

“Can’t you?” Ten tilted his head, his neck slightly exposed form his scarf.

“I don’t have my camera, is it okay if I use my phone?” 

“Just hurry.” Ten giggled softly, and Johnny let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

The slight smoke coming from his smile to the other’s as he fumbled around to find his phone. Once in his hand he murmured. “Act natural.”

Ten looked away, towards nothing, in the direction of the horizon. Gold tinted his cheeks, rather unusual since it was still winter. The sun wasn’t that harsh yet, it was all faint. Pastel light against pale skin and lavender. 

Finger tapped the shutter and Ten moved, now smiling bigger, reaching his cheeks and Johnny captured that. He kept everything Ten was giving him, take after take. 

“Let me see.”

Nevertheless, when Johnny came back home to write his entry on the project, he used this last picture. Slightly blurry due to the movement: the younger reaching for the camera. Ten’s smile is the widest there, teeth on display and nose scrunched. His entire demeanor soft, comfortable, natural. 

The promise to not forget his camera from now on, circling in his mind as he dozed off.

  
  
  


“Wait, like  _ like _ ?”

“What a fucking boring question, Jae.” Johnny said more tease than venom. 

Their laptops winked closed as they had stopped brainstorming for a while now, a conversation that felt more than catching up with someone they saw everyday, ensuing instead. 

“You just said you think he likes you.” Jaehyun protested. “Like, that’s a huge step, you guys just met.”

“Not every relationship is a slow burn that needs years to bloom.”

“Don’t be condescending, Jonathan.”

The older sighed. “Ah, he calls me Jonathan.”

Which prompted the younger to throw him the pillow from the chair next to him. “You don’t start with this shit, or I swear.”

“Or what, Yunoh?” It was play fight, one of their favourite pastimes when they were five. And ten. And twenty.

“I don’t have more pillows.”

“Throw me your laptop, coward.”

It was admirable how Jaehyun did grab his laptop and held it up his shoulder. Only for the cable to be yanked and cause a butterfly effect where Jaehyun’s pencil case vomited the contents on the table. 

“But, to answer your question, it’s not like that.” Johnny replied, gathering some copic markers. “I just think we are getting there? I might be reading it all wrong.”

“But you are hopeful.”

“He is just…” Johnny trailed off, looking out the window at the cloudy sky of a Sunday morning.

Jaehyun smiled softly, a puff of air escaping his nose. “I’d love it if you were right. Still, be careful.”

“Can we go back to the podcast?” Johnny asked this time, a clear sour taste in his mouth.

“Sure.”

  
  
  


March barged in like a lion. Cold and merciless, no spring in sight. Clouds thicker than caramel, yet never sweet. Rain was sporadic and classes got rougher. There was no roaring, not loud. However Ten could feel it building inside.

Everything was irritating: the way Johnny walked, like he owned the world, like he knew everyone would spend one extra moment looking at him. The smile always tugging in his lips as if he was supposed to be born a cat but someone decided last minute that, no let’s make him human and let’s put him in Ten’s life to ruin it.

It was about time, Johnny said washing his hands in the bathroom, not a very romantic place to ask for a date. But, fair enough, after three weeks, it was about time they had their first fake date.

Regardless Ten couldn’t make up the turmoil in his head. Mostly because it had started there, and soon it was everywhere. Specially between his lungs. 

“Can you please just put a case on that phone.” Ten commented with a growl.

“Why would I do that? I bought it because of the color.” Johnny looked like the pray he was at the fangs of an annoyed Ten.

“Then buy a transparent case, I don’t know.”

“Why the sudden interest on my phone?”

“Because if you drop it, it’s going to break?”

“And what about it? I can just buy a new one.”

“That’s the thing. This phone is fucking expensive, Johnny. And the fact that you can afford not only one, but two.”

“What the fuck do you mean?”

“Like an entire family could eat for a week, with the amount of money this shit costs. And that family, struggles to even save the money which you spend on a phone. Can’t you see, my point?”

“I do. And it reminds me of my mother telling me to eat my veggies because people are starving somewhere.”

“It’s not about who are you helping. It’s about being conscious of your privilege. Like I can’t even afford that phone to begin with, and not because I don’t want to, but I just have other shit to pay. I’m the majority of people, in case you haven’t still caught my drift.”

Johnny looked at his phone again, but not in the bored apathy of someone who is checking their notifications. Rather as if he was holding a fossil. As if he was examining some crack or dent that showed its age. There was none. Johnny pocketed it and went to hold Ten’s hand again.

“Green light.” and they crossed the street in silence.

“What’s your favourite song.” came softly from Ten. A peace offering.

“I don’t think I have one.” Johnny sounded dry.

“Oh.”

“What’s yours?”

“Grace Kelly by Mika.” Johnny stopped in his tracks and breathed through his nose for maybe two seconds too long. Ten didn’t want to ponder on his lung capacity too much.

Neither he could because, he answered just as seriously and with a deadpan voice.“I fucking love Mika.” the words went with a little squeeze in their hold.

Not attempting to withdraw, Ten realised they were mere meters away from the museum. 

“And I hate arguing, especially with you.” the taller finished.

Ten sighed as Johnny finally let go, hating how much he missed it immediately. 

“Come here.”

And Ten did go there, no insisiting needed. Breaking eye contact just the second before he was squishing his cheeks against Johnny’s chest. 

The first thought it was what they taught you, what’s engraved in your brain through repetition and practice.

Nice.

The second is your thinking, your own reason kicking in.

_ More _ .

“I’m sorry I got so defensive.”

“I’m sorry too, I was too much.” 

It's not like Ten hadn't apologized before.However, those words were always followed by a sense of defeat, assertiveness and rightfulness on the other's faces which made him even madder. But now, Johnny was looking down at him, glint in his eyes like infinity wasn't that scary anymore.

So, yeah Ten could get used to this.

“Good?” Johnny smiled.

He could get absolutely used to this.

“Good.”

“Then, let’s go.”

  
  
  
  


The good thing about going to the museum with Ten, Johnny came to comprehend, was that he doesn’t have to spend money on tour guides, or audio guides. Ten is so enthusiastically speaking about the art pieces and its makers, that Johnny finds himself willing to listen to him ramble all day.

Even with his jacket off he couldn’t quite shake off the warmth of the hug. How welcomed it was even after a fight, how genuine and how much he longed for another one. 

So yeah, all in all, Johnny was fucked.

  
  
  
  


“This is my stop.” Ten said after the woman's voice echoed through the wagon, letting everyone know where the doors were.

“Two before mine.” Johnny said as he moved, letting other passengers as well as Ten get closer to said door. 

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Ten said softly, not wanting to break the relative silence. “Our what? Sixteenth day?”

“Who’s counting?” The answer was obvious since they had to do a recap of the experience daily. Still, Ten kept his mouth shut. 

Because pointing out the obvious didn’t seem to work on Johnny, and also the fact that Johnny was extremely close to him all of a sudden, disabled all processing functions. 

“At least tell me you are writing your assignment.” He managed to get out quite normally. A small win for him. 

The train slowed down. 

Johnny grabbed the hem of Ten’s sleeve.

“I really enjoyed our date” 

The train faded into a stop, the doors sliding open. 

“You aren’t supposed to say these things.” Ten was absolutely, affirmatively, not blushing. “But I did too. Just let me pay next time, don’t put up such a fight.”

Johnny only nodded, a mumbled agreement mixed with a tiny laughter.

The fabric slipped from where Johnny was pinching it, and Ten’s hooded figure got lost in the middle of the crowd. 

However, Johnny could find that lavender sweater in the middle of the apocalypse.

  
  
  
  


“Do weekends count?” Johnny asked.

“You mean in the project?” Ten could only see the other’s chin and jawline, and they were not weirdly attractive, not at all. 

“Yeah.” The screen froze for a second, once back, Johnny was looking at the camera again.

“I don’t think so. The deadline is the day of the midterm and that was in forty days from the day we got the email.” Ten explained.

“Well, shit.”

“Why?”Cold sweats. Ten brushed the bangs out of his face “Oh no John, don’t tell me.”

“Yup.” A loud thud was heard from the other line, and Johnny vanished for a moment. When he got back, there was a red circle forming on his forehead. “I’ll just redo it tonight no big deal.”

“You really didn’t stop to count?” At this point, the situation was laughable.

“You did?” But Johnny leaned back, sighing.

“Of course! Why would weekends count? It’s a school project?” The mixture of his laughter with hysteria in his voice, made Ten double over, tears dwelling in his eyes.

“I don’t know, I kept talking to you and you didn’t push me away.”

“Why would I?”

“You were so adamant to do this project.”

“Well, if you weren’t so fucking nice.” Ten protested, weakly.

“Ouch?” Johnny talked with his limbs, which was dangerous, but somewhat endearing when his shoulders were up comically and his arms forming a W shape.

“Yeah, I fucking said it.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

There was a pause, some typing on the other end as Ten took time to calm down and study Johnny’s words. 

“Wait you really think I’d push you away? Is that why you are being super nice?” Was lower, but weaker.

“How did you get--. Wait let’s recap.” The elder shook his head, more locks escaping the already messy ponytail, but his expression becoming serious. “Okay, I do like talking to you, I am being genuine like you told me. Don’t you dare overthink about this.”

“I regret telling you about that.”

In Ten’s defense, it was three am, the back of a cab after yet another night out. They got fed up from all the couples soon enough, and besides they lived close enough so it was only logical they’d share the ride. And perhaps some bad habits.

Johnny used to do stick-and-poke tattoos. He changed it to DIY jewelry. 

“I said do not.”

“So, do you think of me as a fake boyfriend?” A bit louder. Still weak.

“Ten, what did I just say?” Technology would never make Johnny’s eyes justice, and Ten was somewhat glad, because he couldn’t take the intensity behind them. 

“I’m trying to clear things up so I don’t overthink.” He had to break eye contact, even with the screens and distance between them.

“Fine. I think of you was a good friend. Nothing’s fake.” Johnny stated.

“So you flirt like that with all your friends?”

“If they let me.”

“I don’t recall letting you.”

“Well you never told me to stop either.” Something funny set in Johnny’s tongue, glimmered in each word. Making Ten feel fuzzy amidst the teasing session.

“I did!”

“The nicknames, not the flirting.” 

Suddenly, Ten could see his screen lighting up, but when checking on it, no light had been turned on in Johnny’s room. In fact, it was the boy himself smiling. 

“Wait, so you agree that we are flirting.”

“You are.” Defended Ten.

“And you like it.”

“I won’t answer without my lawyer in the room.” Ten shut down his laptop, body fully turning to the video call on his phone. “I’m hanging up now. G’night.”

Whenever Ten changed his tone, Johnny changed his demeanor. Both were subtle, but Ten had drown enough bodies, and danced enough times to notice. 

Normally the older would relax his posture, his chest not so puffed. And his lips would sound like cotton candy every time he said. “Good night, Ten.”

  
  
  


“What the fuck is this?” Ten opened the door wider. A mistake, that was on him.

The balloons bumped against each other in a comical noise, some booped against the taller’s forehead, nose, cheek. One stray red one flew its way from Ten’s chin up the ceiling. 

“We couldn’t celebrate your birthday properly, so here I am.” The other explained, struggling to shrug his coat off. 

Ten offered to hold the damn balloons, because he was a good host and even a better gentleman. Arm stretched showing Johnny the way to his couch. 

“Damn the day I gave you my address.” Ten mumbled as he handed the strings back to the other, only for the taller to let the things loose on the living room ceiling.

One balloon popped the second it reached the light. Johnny jumped three steps back and Ten shouted his lungs out.

The following five seconds of silence and eye contact were nothing but ridiculous. So Ten laughed.

And laughed.

And soon Johnny joined. 

“You are an idiot.”

“Happy birthday, sweet plum cake.” With that, he found his way to the couch, flopping onto it with a victory smile. “You had to see the looks I got in the subway.”

“You were a sight, I bet.” Ten sat next to him, eyes glued on the remaining balloons and fingers toying with a string. “You really didn’t have to.”

“Oh please, just because your birthday was on a Tuesday doesn’t mean you get to skip your party.”

“I already had a birthday party?”

The gasp Johnny let out made him dramatically lean all the way to the arm rest. “Without me?” 

“Remember when we met at the club?” Ten rolled his eyes, accommodating Johnny on his way back next to him.

“As a result of two very dumb pinning friends, yes.”

“That was my birthday party.” Ten explained, now tugging on the string. “Well, not really, but Doyoung is also a February kid like me. And even though I don’t like parties they dragged me there to celebrate.”

“Why don’t you like parties?”

“Let me rephrase: I don’t like birthdays.” Sad eyes found round ones, closer than he remembered them, but not bothersome.

“Oh.” The eyes were gone, Johnny found the rug more interesting interesting. “Then this is very uncomfortable.”

“No!” Ten reassured him quickly. “It’s fine, you didn’t know.” Ten shrugged, easy smile setting on his face, undecided as to why it was there.

“So you don’t like birthdays as a whole or is it specific to one person?” 

“I don’t like my own birthday.” 

Ten felt Johnny scooting closer. He didn’t push him away. The arm toying with the string felt sore and tired, so he dropped it in the space between their two bodies. If Johnny was smart enough, which he was, he would get the hint. Boundaries.

“May I ask why?”

“No.” And with that, Ten bolted out of the couch. “Can I offer you something to drink?”

“I’d like an answer, more than anything.” 

God, the scene was familiar, wasn’t it?

Johnny had his two fist on each side of his thighs, one push and he would be standing. Ten didn’t want that, height and all. It wouldn’t be fair to his resolution.

So to avoid that, he started walking to the kitchen, hoping he’d be able to fix something for the two of them would take long enough to gather his thoughts. Or maybe change the subject. 

“I’m sorry we ran out of that.” Peeking his head out of the kitchen door, he added. “Taste of your own medicine.” Before disappearing, he winked at a dumbfounded Johnny.

  
  
  
  


He had it coming, Johnny resolved. Even if he found the whole answering with evasives or with a question quirky, it was bound to come around and bite him in the ass. In the worst possible moment.

Curious nature be damned, it was more than dna what brought him to do what he did. He wanted a cake, or jajangmyeon but his brain stopped him before he could make a fool of himself. Which turned out to be for the best. 

It was the thought that matter, though, right?

Johnny just wanted to do something nice to celebrate the birthday of his very platonic friend. Completely friendly. No feelings at all. Keep in mind what Jaehyun said. 

However, he was leaning in then. Microwave pasta and a ton of shredded cheese melted in Ten’s fork. 

No talking wasn’t in his agenda, but if he did go back to talk more questions would pop up, and annoyed Ten wasn’t a good Ten. He would know. Even if that had ended in a hug, such success wasn’t to be taken for granted.

“Sorry, I don’t have anything more fancy.” the shorter apologized, bringing the container down to his lap.

“It’s fine. I mean it’s your birthday party, you get to choose.” 

“Johnny I--”

Oh here we go. Okay, finally. Johnny, breathe. This is not a big deal. 

“I really appreciate what you’ve done.” Plastic fork pushed and pulled the coldening cheese around. “But my birthday brings back feelings I don’t like.”

“Okay.” Exhale.

Johnny really tried to not sound disappointed. This was not what he was expecting the night to end but, in fact, it was better. Nothing like a heart to heart moment to finally understand the brushstrokes that formed Ten.

“It just reminds me that it’s all going to end.” Ten looked at him for a slight second. Not enough for Johnny to form any word, before the younger scoffed, looking aside. “That sounds so fucking dramatic, oh my god, I swear I’m not a nihilist.”

Johnny chuckled along, never too loud. Never wanting to eclipse Ten’s spotlight. It was his time to shine. To let his heart come out for air. 

“But everything ends. Family, stability, money, love.” He listed. “And life. Of course. And birthdays, anniversaries...they are all reminders of that.”

“So you don’t celebrate them?” Ten shook his head.

“Not unless I have an excuse to do so.” With a fluttering exhale he finished with. “Sorry.”

And Johnny lurched forward, because even if they dimmed the lights to watch a movie, the flashes of the TV still showed a single tear rolling down Ten’s cheek. Which was swiftly and quickly wiped away by the owner. 

“Hey, no crying during your party. We don’t stan Melanie Martinez in this house.”

Johnny relaxed only when Ten seemed to smile. 

There were no more words the rest of the evening. The movie, the plastic fork and some rustling around until Ten’s head was on Johnny’s chest, where he took a small nap. 

The last train had left, two hours ago, and a very sleepy Ten accompanied him to the door, blinking the sleep away but with a smile that seemed to beg to be kissed. 

Johnny hugged him goodbye, just for good measure.

On his way back, Johnny tried to swallow the raspy aftertaste of the night. Like a lemon frosting, Ten’s explanation didn’t quite sit right.

But, they had time.

And Johnny was patient. For once, he’d be.

  
  
  


Unexpected.

What wasn’t?

If Ten had learned anything in his life is that, worst and best things came out of the blue, uninvited. The first type were dealt with a lot of sarcasm and crying to exhaustion. The second type with shock, a shudder and three seconds to recognize it was real. 

Thunderstruck.

That was Ten with the second type. Which sometimes only made them go away. His lack of response usually mistaken with uninterest, even disregard. Golden sand between his hands, falling onto the dunes that were already covering up his knees. 

But how could Ten capture it? 

The desert changes every single day, that’s why it’s so difficult to navigate it. The golden sand travels during the night. 

Ten wondered what his golden dunes would look like after more than a week with no contact. 

A tall kid opened the door. Not as tall as Johnny, but on the way there. Tasseled brunet hair and calm eyes. 

“Hey.”

Before any stupid thought triggered by jealousy could kick in, Ten spoke. “Is Johnny in?”

“Who is ask-” 

The boy got yanked. Literally. Pulled away from the door with enough force to let it open fully, while he stumbled back. Revealing a fresh out of the shower Johnny, still dripping, barefoot and shirtless.

Ten held his breath and hoped to God his heartbeat couldn’t be heard. 

“Ten.”

Perhaps it was the shampoo induced smelled, the hot air still emanating from his body, the long bangs plastered on his forehead, the way he was bending, hand holding his towel shut; that made Ten sigh. Maybe it was his name on his breath, making him float when he blinked. 

“Movie night?”

  
  
  


Long forgotten, the flashes from the movie blinked as Ten stretched in place. Sleeves rolling down his arms to his elbows, small moles peaking through the half-light. 

“What you are smiling at?”

Well, he got caught. Sue him. After more than seven whole days without having a proper conversation with the guy, Johnny thought it was only fair to dive into every single detail. Just in case. 

Definitely, the distance made him more appreciative of their encounters, in a way that tugged the strings in his chest just so to make him bite down his happiness. 

“How was practice?” He merely asked. 

“Tiring as always.” Ten sighed, eyes closed. “But, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Want me to massage your legs?”

Eyes open wide, blinking maybe fifteen times, Ten took an entire scene to decide. His answer came as he leaned against the arm rest, legs on Johnny’s lap on top of the blanket. 

Now, Johnny wasn’t a saint. Guilty as charged of the crimes that any other teenager with internet access (and knowledge of how to erase his tracks in the web), commit when hormones get the best of them. 

So, it’s understandable that when Ten muffled a moan, Johnny’s hands stuttered, body going tense. Pretending as if he hadn’t heard it was the most rational choice, hell, not even a choice. But he’d be damned if he wouldn’t retain the sound in the back of his head.

For later.

For the next shower. 

Soon, Ten was retracting his legs, sitting properly again. If Johnny squinted, he could feel him a tiny closer than before. 

And then, closer.

He wasn’t really the smoothest, no one would be, truth be told. So, Johnny rejoiced in silence until their shoulders met. Ten adjusted, just the smallest ruffling as he accommodated. Johnny only moved to make himself more comfortable.

“Do you want to take a nap?” 

Ten nodded as he placed his head on his shoulder. 

His heart wasn’t supposed to skip a beat. That’s not how it was supposed to work.

Johnny was ready for the soreness that position would induce, the stiffness he was faced to suffer. But not this. Not Ten wrapping an arm around his waist, and then his head sinking lower. To his chest. To his thigh.

Some movements we do on autopilot, as in, like breathing or blinking, we don’t need to order the brain to do those as much as we do for other movements. 

Brushing Ten’s hair happened like breathing, like blinking. Johnny’s hands against the raven locks shyly in the beginning. Then rhythmatic. Then blurry.

It was between the passionate kiss scene, and the happily ever after, that Johnny dozed off.

  
  
  


Too many movies had the same scene: the lover closes the door after an encounter with their partner, a silly smile blooms in their lips. They are normally teen movies, frivolous media that sell the perfect love story. 

Even if Ten knew how unreachable, how flawed that trope was, he couldn’t stop himself from covering his mouth, the traitor revealing something he wanted to keep inside. The battle was lost. 

So, he took off his shoes, the rampage only grew bigger from the buzzing that started at Johnny’s front door. 

They had breakfast, Johnny introduced him to his roommate, Jaehyun the boy who opened the door. Shy but a delight to be around, and a great cook, to be added.

“You guys should come to Kun’s open mic tomorrow night.” The offer was thrown on the air and swiftly caught by the roommates, how just looked at each other and nodded. 

The knowing smiles and looks were mirrored around the table, and Ten poured himself some more juice. 

Now, the big finale had been the hug. 

Ten had to give it to the taller, he was a great hugger. It was all because of the height, that was for sure, but there was something so intricately amazing about hugging Johnny that Ten feared he’d never have enough. His subconscious seemed to agree, having woken up in a mess of limbs on Johnny’s couch, arms wrapped around his middle.

“Someone didn’t sleep here last night.” Commented Kun, book in hand and mug resting on the table beside the arm rest. 

What a fucking grandpa.

“Yeah.” Ten replied, like an idiot.

“So it went well?” A finger marked where Kun had stopped reading to focus on his friend. 

The other just nodded and let out a “Very well.”

Kun readjusted his reading glasses and smiled. “Told you. Initiative is key.” When Ten rolled his eyes, and was about to reply with a snarky comment about him and Taeil, when Kun finished with. “You’d want to shower and get ready before Doyoung wakes up and brings his boyfriends in tow.”

“You told him?” Sounding indignant Ten did a whole turn.

“He is a criminal justice major, he connected the dots.”

  
  
  
  


Night fell on Sunday, no stars in the sky, but a big moon about to be completely full. Just that last push. It was rather early, nature fooling everyone with its new winter bedtime. 

It wasn’t as windy as it had been on Saturday, thank goodness, but the chilly breeze still made Johnny pull his turtle neck up his chin. Jaehyun’s globed hands locking on his arm as they walked to the front of the place. 

A fading redhead was already waiting, pockets stuffed with his own hands as well, lips red and turning blue. 

“Finally.” The oldest said turning to them, slightly annoyed. “What took you so long?”

“My fault.” Jaehyun said raising his hand.

Taeil dropped the complaint immediately. One day it will stop being true, and Jaehyun would stop needed ten more minutes to get ready to face the city. One day. They were getting there. 

“Should we go in?” he said pointing at the place with his head. 

Johnny only nodded, bracing himself for the rest of the night. 

  
  
  
  


“I am going to murder you.” Kun muttered.

Eyebrows frowning so deeply it looked like it was carved on his face, eyes burning and mouth taught in order to not yell at his friend.

“You said you wanted to invite them.” Ten shrugged, taking another sip of his cocktail.

“No I didn’t!” Kun was scream-yelling, which would be even more hilarious if the poor boy wasn’t having a whole breakdown.

“Yes you did.” Taeyong recalled. “You might have been very intoxicated, but you did.” 

Kun’s hands turned into fists on top of the table, his apron squished in one of them as his head hung low. “Everyone, shut up.”

“I can even quote you.” That was Yuta, shit-eating grin on his face. “I want him to see me perform so maybe then he’ll want to suck my dick again.”

“Still not sure what did you mean by again.” Doyoung seemed calmer and more collected than he really was, bunny teeth on display as he chuckled.

“I am taking you off of my will.” Kun was now pointing at his friends one by one.

“As long as you invite us to the wedding.” Singsung Taeyong waving the waiter off.

Ten grabbed Kun’s hand on his way out, squeezing it for all it was worth and earning a very exasperated look from his friend. The few seconds that little encounter lasted, were enough for the presenter to announce Kun’s act. Ten quickly grabbed his apron from his friend.

As Kun waved and greeted from the stage, Ten stole a glance from the table across the room. Jaehyun sat back facing his table, Taeil (currently in trace) in the middle, and Johnny facing full body Ten’s way.

And he was staring.

Ten smiled and pointed at the stage. Focus, Johnnyboy.

Johnnyboy nodded. However, as Ten turned, he didn’t see a movement from the corner of his eye.

Trying not to relish on the attention, he found a breather in Kun introducing his song.

With the first few accord, his head snapped towards Doyoung. Oh boy, did they know that song. It was Kun’s song. He made it. Like, note for note, lyric for lyric. It was his second year final project.

The one he had Taeil help him.

Kun, you bold bastard. 

  
  
  


Hiding behind the mask sat the smiling eyes. Just like the sun behind the hills, behind the smog. Even if his attention span had been severely reduced after entering college (and Vine), Johnny found himself thinking he could just stare for the longest time.

But then the doors slid open and Ten got of the train alongside a swarm of people. 

Wednesdays were their safe haven, so they found out after checking and comparing their schedules. It was then sentenced as their date day, and hence, the reports were lengthy every Wednesday nights.

Soon, Johnny got braver with words, growing within him like someone had been watering them. Now, being cheesy and all, he would point at the shorter for that, but he wanted to give himself some credit. Long conversations were held between the two of them, during sleepless nights and boring lectures, dmist dancing practices and podcast episodes.

Yeah, Johnny and Jaehyun were done with the brainstorming, with poor equipment but the motivation of two very tired millennials, they just went for it. Dissertation never looked easier. 

So yeah, words were good. Better than expected. 

The sprout only grew greener and healthier as each day passed. The more they hung out together, the happier it sung on its little pot between Johnny’s fingers. 

“I can’t believe you are that bad at bowling.” Ten punched his chest, not softly, not harsh either.

Every since spring started sneaking around the corners, like an illusion, Ten started acting different. Changes were always good for Johnny. Almost always.

That one had been for the very best.

Ten was walking backwards. Wait, no, skipping. The little birdy was skipping backwards with the biggest grin on his face, gums on display and bangs bouncing against his forehead. Glasses rimming his eyes like those golden frames back in February.

“I told you my shoulder hurts.”

Ten stuck out his tongue. “Sore loser.”

“Wanna grab some coffee?” Johnny asked after a few beats, letting the other calm down and walk beside him once more.

“You already know the answer, Johnnyboy.” The shorter replied shoving him slightly.

However, he didn’t shove anyone. He shoved The Johnny Suh. So, of course, he stumbled back, holding his shoulder like a wounded soldier, head hanging low as he almost bumped into two old women --to whom he apologized.

“That’s it, you are going to get it.” Was all warning Johnny gave Ten before he was lurching forward and onto the shorter.

Grabbing him by the middle and lifting him up. Half the crowd stopped and stared, and he found himself not caring at all. Not like in the subway, where the looks made him want to shove the balloons up his shirt. Braver now, he spun the other around a couple of times until he was apologizing between cackles.

Once he dropped him safely to the ground, Johnny waited for the other to settle down his breathing before doing yet another very impulsive thing.

“I see a coffee shop right there, let’s go.” 

He’d done this before, but in a complete different level. His experience was in the platonic field: when putting his arm around his friend’s shoulders was meant to be a temporary state, minimal friction and a lot of emotion. Now, he was lingering his touch as his arm traveled to circle Ten’s smaller frame. Hand hanging low, hovering on Ten’s chest, feeling the warmth centimetres apart.

The distance didn’t throw the other off, he didn’t reciprocate neither push himself away from the embrace.

Poppy sprouts, that’s what words about Ten felt like. Johnny pushed the door open for them both, not dropping his smile nor his hold as they ordered.

  
  
  
  


Less than ten days.

They were already marching around the first whole month into this whole fake dating thing, and it was confusing to say the least. 

Due to many factors:

Ten couldn’t really pinpoint where the rampage in his guts were the fucking shark-butterflies everyone talks about, or a damn congestion. The fidgeting had stopped and the blushing had taken over, he could feel it at the end of every day, lying on his bed missing the heat on his cheeks. 

Missing the warmth on his hand and that stupid fucking awful coffee breath. 

Something in the back of his head, he’d call it treason, it was very much just his reason, yelled at him to stop and face the music. 

Technically he was: head turned to look at his record collection and turn table on one of his shelves. See? This is why he wanted to bury himself in the ground and just lay there, Johnny had rubbed off on him to the point where  _ he _ was making the bad puns.

Ten.

Bad dad puns.

His hands tugged on the covers as he turned to face the window instead. The shell filled jar, he had brought from home waved familiarity into this whole situation. Ten sighed. 

The polaroid camera was sitting next to it. Doyoung had arched an eyebrow when he saw his roommate ordering it online, but seemed supportive enough when he started snapping candids of him. 

Johnny had offered to give him a polaroid album he had laying around every since he switched onto another camera. For the sake of him, Ten couldn’t remember the name of the device, nor its characteristics other that it was old and fucking expensive. 

What to expect from a loser who used fountain pens, just like Taeyong. Those people just like to throw inconveniences onto their own lives. 

His feet found the ground before he could realise he was moving, one photo laid on top of the rest. Fingers held it up in the darkness as the memory rewined in Ten’s mind. 

Taken exactly the day Johnny went to buy the new camera, he had been ranting about diaphragms, lenses and shutters and whatnot. And Ten didn’t mean to shut him up, he didn’t. However, something in the way Johnny was just so enamoured while talking made Ten act without much thought. Without filter.

He had been doing a lot of that lately. 

Again, that was Johnny rubbing off on him. 

Ten was covering his smile as he dropped the photo again, sitting on the edge of his bed. His hand reached for his phone. 

**ten:** are you asleep?

**johnny:** that’s a stupid question

**ten:** you are stupid

**johnny:** and you are adorable

Ten threw the phone onto the bed, but further away from where he launched himself to scream onto his pillow.

Maybe it was time to face the music. 

He had a big fucking crush on Johnny.

  
  
  
  


"What's your favourite flower?"

“Flower?”

"Not house plant, not tree. Flower." Johnny clarified, rubbing his cheek against the top of Ten’s head.

"Oh wait, shit, I know the Thai name for it." 

After some fumbling around, Ten fished his phone, thumbs quickly tapping on the translator app. Each movement looked slightly lethargic in an elegant way, in a manner that seemed mystical. Johnny would call him a nymph but Ten had called him nerd enough times already.

"Forget-me-not." The shorter jumped as he pocketed his phone.

"Hm?"

"My flower." Ten shrugged. "What about you?” he added before finishing his second bottle of soju.

Johnny chuckled, just the tiniest bit. Just so it would muffle his heart beat for a second, perhaps it wasn’t loud enough for the shorter to hear, even if his ear was against his chest. 

The sky was plain as always. It never felt terrifying as it was in that moment, Johnny realised. They were looking at the void, rather than the universe. Where the whole Milky Way should be in display for them, only two brave stars winked weakly.

Hopefully, they could make it work with those two loners in the sky.

“Poppies.” 

“Common, but weirdly underrated.” Ten approved, arm wrapped around his waist tugging closer. 

Johnny’s hand came from Ten’s shoulder to play with the hairs on the back of his head, fingers slapped by the cold outside their little cocoon of blankets. 

“Kun asked Taeil out.” Ten muttered against Johnny’s old sweater. 

“I know, the fucker called me in a panic because he thought it was a joke.” Their laughter felt small in the vasity of the universe. “Left Kun hanging for a couple of minutes there.”

“What a mess.”

“Aren’t we all?” Johnny asked, chasing Ten’s eyes when he pulled away.

“Are we?”

It was only when Kun slid the balcony door open, that they both realised how close they had been leaning.

“Sorry. Shit. I’m just leaving for...my date.” He bit his lip in a genuine apologetic expression. “I’m truly sorry, please keep going.”

And with that, he was gone. 

But the silence between the couple had only begun.

  
  


Johnny googled Ten’s flowers later, on his way home. The subway suddenly bloomed in vibrant blue, and Johnny couldn't help but smile. Such small petals could hold so much color, of course they could. Just like Ten could hold so much wonder in him. He was forget-me-nots, with his purple shirt and his twirling, black hair getting longer and smile getting wider. The sun in his face, just like the small yellow ring in the middle of the flower.

Flowers held meanings. They had been the language used by lovers for centuries on end. But all of those fell into disgrace after Johnny's finding. 

Myosotis meant "mouse's ear" in ancient Greek. So, it was only fitting that Johnny put a small mouse next to Ten's name on his contact list.

He knew he was fucked, way before Ten’s name echoed through the shower tiles, and the shame it brought, before the dreams, the sighs and squeezed heartbeats. Johnny knew he was fucked way before he even knew Ten’s name. 

That damn scarf.

That damn sweater.

  
  
  
  


It had been slipping right through his fingers, like time, like the waves. They would hug the tips of his digits right at the end, making him want to trace them again. Brown locks had never been so inviting, never felt so much like home. 

Cuddling was never this soothing either, it was always meant to be funny, to have some tickle fights involved, maybe so pinching some fun. Never feelings. But Ten couldn't help it. 

First time was an accident, Ten just fell asleep. The other time they were just cold. Ten could find one thousand excuses. However, there he was, faced with the one thousand and one.

And this time around, he just gave up on justifying it.

Brown locks and brown eyes. Closed. It had been a rough week, midterms didn't spare anyone, and Johnny was in senior year. So, add that to the mix. Their dates had already been scarce, barely being able to meet to have some coffee before class, and studying somewhere together. Ten would say he missed it. Yeah, he could admit as much. 

Everybody likes to be held. So when the study session ended up in an overgrown Johnny puppy curled on his chest, Ten logged into his netflix account.

Johnny had fairy lights that spotted his cheek bones as they relaxed. Steady breath against his collar bones, body flushed against his own like it had always belonged there, a weight warm and comforting around his waist, and the embrace of sheets on top of him. 

Spring was unforgiving too, nights still frostbite cold. They looked so far away from his little world. A small room he didn’t belong to, yet he might as well have. 

Whatever they chose to watch, died down with their conversation. Something about animal shelters, first pets and childhood. Johnny’s words were slurred by the last scene. However, he was able to ask. 

"Please stay?" he had been so tired. 

He had looked so exhausted. Those brown inviting orbs, that reminded Ten of home, of the wooden stairs of his house, of autumn leaves and coffee in the morning.

Who was Ten to say no? How was he supposed to? 

It was during those moments, moonless nights and winking stars in the grey veil of the night, that he would surrender to his feelings. Face the music, dance to it and let it consume him until his feet burned. 

Everyone likes to be held.

Ten liked being yearned for, wanted. That even if it was just all platonic, all faked for a stupid report. Ten flew right into it, a willing sacrifice, a butterfly in a spiderweb. Honey and brown locks. 

He didn’t catch a blink of sleep that night. Being too aware of every movement, from where Johnny’s drool pooled on his chest, to when his grip got tighter around the hem of his shirt. 

Not nervous. Ten was beyond past the point of stage fright. It was rather the opposite, he was so comfortable, it couldn’t be real. So, his mind decided to treasure it. For all it was worth.

They had been slipping, like time, like waves. Golden sun. It was time to learn how to gather them back around his form once they had fallen by his ankles. Gather him around his arms, and breathe again.

Perhaps he would find in each exhale, that it was very much real.

  
  
  


“So, you like him.”

Jaehyun cracked up the volume of the documentary. Something about criminals and their never-solved crimes. Johnny rolled his eyes, exasperated.

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong about liking someone!” He yelled over the theorist.

“I can’t hear you!” Jaehyun crossed his arms, trapping the control between his chest.

“Jaehyun, it’s okay!” 

Before Johnny could start screaming his eloquent pep talk, the neighbour banged the wall aggressively. Enough to make the bookshelves shake. Once the television was set on mute, said neighbour yelled about them being absolute mental since it was afterall a Thursday night.

And everyone was getting tired of the Sicheng talks. Quite regular since the Valentine’s day outing.

“I’m scared.” it was waverish, like the timid first flights of a bird. “I know Sicheng isn’t like that, but--”

“No, I’m stopping you right there, peach.” Johnny put his whole hand in front of Jaehyun’s face, who complained and shook himself free. “He likes you, so very much Jae, you know that. Like, I fucking love you too, but like in a brother way. Like, I would give my kidney to you, and that sweet kiss back in elementary school was cool. Still, I can’t give you what Sicheng can. And wants to.”

“I just don’t get how stupid I was.” 

“We all make mistakes, Jae. We just gotta keep trying until we find the one.” Johnny said hugging his roommate the best their positions permitted. 

“Sounds like you are talking about yourself.” The younger teased, nudging the elder on the side before returning the hug.

“Hey, speaking of that,” breaking the tender moment, Johnny felt the bulb being lit in his brain. “What about a double date?”

“So you and Ten are dating  _ dating _ now?” Jaehyun couldn’t raise one eyebrow, but damn points for trying.

Johnny shook his hands, stammering with his movements as he stood up and replied. “Besides the point. Would that make you feel more comfortable?”

“Well, I gotta ask him out first.” Jaehyun nodded, confidently. “As a non-date.”

“No.”

“A wholesome platonic hang-out.”

“Jaehyun.”

“A shackity-shack adventure?”

“The finger guns don’t make it sound any cooler.”

“Well, you aren’t helping.” Jaehyun put his hand on his waist, before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine, I’ll tell him.”

Johnny clapped him on the back, making Jaehyun lose his balance a little bit. “Proud of you, peach.”

“You better not be setting me up.” Threatened the younger, reaching for the control again.

“I would never.”

  
  


But, he did.

Not out of his volition, but at Ten’s request. He couldn’t deny those lately. Actually ever.

As soon as the younger was made aware of the situation, he practically made it so they would be late. Not that there was an appointment, one can’t book an arcade, but still, Johnny had never taken a liking to lateness. Waiting was his virtue and his sin.

Sitting on the edge of Ten’s bed as the boy tried every single piece of clothing he owned, feet bouncing nervously as his eyes chased the boy around.

“No choker.” he commented, all and all, this was more entertaining than standing pathetically in front of the arcade, pretending to text someone so people wouldn’t look at him weird.

“But I like this choker.” Ten whined, checking the jewelry on the mirror.

“It doesn’t go with your fit.” 

Fair enough, the boy was standing on a pool of his own clothes, high waisted loose jeans engulfing the hem of a knit beige sweater.

“It’s called contrast.” the younger explained before letting out a frustrated grunt. “Why am I asking questions to the boy who wore a yellow beanie for a week!?” the last part was yelled, as Ten had walked to the bathroom.

“I’ll let you know my mom has worked in the fashion industry for decades!”

“Well, it doesn’t run on the family then.” Ten got hit by his own pillow then.

Scoffing, he faked being offended as he jumped on the bed, successfully tackling Johnny. And after the haze of the act, the dust cleared up and they both realised the rather compromising posture they were in.

Yet neither of them moved.

“You smell good. New cologne?” Johnny tilted his head against the mattress, noticing Ten’s new haircut bouncing as he nodded.

Possession. Any ghost can do it, right? Then the ghost inhabiting Ten’s room must have taken over Johnny, even if he had disregarded its existence, because his hand was rising. Fingers traced the faux leather around Ten’s neck, one particularly naughty one hooked on the metal right.

“Fucking shit, you guys!” yelled Doyoung, having jumped back against the opposite direction of the door. “At least close the fucking door.”

It was only when Ten was helping fasten Johnny’s buttons again, that he even realise the younger had worked them down half way.

If he had to pin point when it started, he would absolutely miss like a drunk blindfolded man playing darts. He would probably stab his own hand, which could have probably been the first to make a move. Pinching the sleeve of Ten’s sweater, wiping a fallen eyelash, a crumb that flew into Ten’s hair.

It could have been a culmination after this small touches, but now he had grown used to it. Ten’s touch on his, squishing his cheeks, brushing his hair, sometimes braiding it; fixing his collars, booping his nose. 

Cuddling.

Hugging.

Like real close.

Some would call it names, shove it into labels. They would get to that, eventually. For now, Johnny enjoyed the small poppy seeds scattered wherever Ten touched him. Sitting on the bed as he stole glances of his date. 

So perhaps, it wasn’t only Ten’s fault that they were late. 

  
  
  
  


“On the first fucking try? Really?” 

Ten had both his hands tugging at his hair, looking at Johnny hugging both Jaehyun and Sicheng. The first looking rather taken aback but smiling nonetheless, and the second looking mildly concerned for his life. 

Soon, they were both released, and the big hugging bear machine made his way towards Ten. Who not only got hugged but picked up as well.

“There are like nine more tries left, Johnny.” Ten pointed out, nodding at the general direction of the machine.

The taller dragged his gaze towards the glowing neon claw machine, scanning every single item in order to choose his next victim. Determination sat well on his features, Ten thought. It had always made him look that bit much more attractive. Which, was fucking unfair.

Ever since that first dinner, his persuasion ways are admirable, but he didn’t go out of his way to make the most of it. Johnny couldn’t bargain for shit. And Ten had had a good gut feeling. Maybe the lanterns.

Maybe that little tug in Johnny’s lips whenever he thought Ten wasn’t looking.

“Are you all ready for this? Because you all are going back home with plushies. Mark my fucking words.”

Jinxed it. Johnny tended to do that a lot too. But Ten wasn’t the one to stop him, it was hilarious when it happened. Yet, he still found himself rubbing Johnny’s arm as he laughed, the disappointment in his pout too sweet to ignore.

Kiss it better.

No, brain, we aren’t doing this.

It’s like day thirty-nine or something.  _ Kiss him _ .

Ten shook his head. 

“Are you okay?” Johnny asked, arm sneaking around his waist. “Cold?”

“A little.” So what if he used that as an excuse to pull himself closer? Sue him.

“Here.” with that, Johnny poked Ten with the plushie.

“You sure?” Ten asked looking down that the little shark, then up to Johnny. Back to the shark. 

“You don’t have any, and you said you wanted a sea in your room when you were little right?” Johnny recalled, squeezing his side. 

Ten yelped as he accepted the gift. “I thought you were sleeping by then.”

Johnny just shrugged, turning his head at the sudden screams of Jaehyun and Sicheng riding a VR rollercoaster.

“Get the camera, darling, they are holding hands.”

Ten didn’t complain about the nickname, then. Not later either. The timing had passed, and he was kind of getting used to them. 

Instead, he shrugged, and found his phone with one hand, as the other was being occupied holding a very much larger one leading him further into the arcade.

  
  
  


Finally, a crash of spring scattered over the land. Hills covered in white, shy blossoms tainted pink. Soft and fragile, like the one setting on Ten’s cheeks as Johnny traced his knuckles over the table.

Rooftop cafés were just as romantic as they were distracting, not that the library was any less of that. Johnny couldn’t stand the silence, and even the small white sound pissed him off. He’d rather have people talking, kettles whistling and coffee brewing, than the murmur of a library.

Ten somehow shared his opinion, even though he had become Johnny’s biggest distraction.

“I want to destroy Sigmund Freud.” He commented, squinting at his notes in anger. “Absolute dickhead.”

“Now, that might have been a compliment to him.” 

Ten fake gagged, typing something on his laptop, yet still managing to make Johnny’s finger trace further up his wrist. The older only let a small breath come from between a muted laughter, such occurrence was not uncommon. 

In fact, Ten was very much like an affectionate cat: he would never purposely seek contact, but when he got it, he would just stretch and adjust to get more. 

Sometimes, he’d hum, and Johnny would blame the internet for picturing him in cat ears.

“I can’t believe we are still studying this asshole. It’s the twenty first century, can’t we move on?” hand brushed over his bangs, shorter now but still very much raven black. 

“To think he was a bestseller.” Johnny egged him on as Ten returned to his notes.

This time Ten turned his hand, palm facing the sky, and Johnny took it as a dare. A challenge. Free real estate. 

His fingers traced all the lines, up to Ten’s smaller digits and then back down to the center. 

Library, cafeteria, or in the middle of a paintball war, Ten had the ability to focus. Steel eyes tracing every single word. Until he sighed and all but smacked the papers together into the pile. 

“I hate my major.”

“No you don’t.” Johnny sighed on his way down to rest his head against his forearm. 

Ten leaned back against his seat. “No I don’t.”

While the younger checked his phone, Johnny interlocked their fingers. No flinching from the other end. Which was an improvement, since Ten would withdraw his hand then, drawing an invisible line that only got weaker and weaker each passing day.

Not that he was imagining it, the process was documented, on a report. A report they should be handing in within the day.

“Want to go over it? Before sending it?” Johnny asked nodding at his own computer as well as his position permitted. 

Ten arches his brow. “Are you sure you want me to read it?” 

“Only if you let me read yours.”

Rolling his eyes, the other replied with a smirk. “Of course there was a catch.”

Johnny sprung up from where he was half bent on the table. “It’s only fair!”

“Fine!” imitated the other, same whiny tone and all. 

Admittedly, it was adorable. He said so out loud, gaining himself a glare that was both a warning and a scoff. A feat only at Ten’s reach. 

  
  


The breeze rose around noon, Johnny read every single word right after he got the link to open it. Eyes scanning every single dark dot on the screen. Marveled how he had been part of something so extraordinary, because that’s how Ten painted the entire experience: it had been much more personal than he let on, which was fascinating. Johnny could have guessed they both took this pair work to their own heart, but he could have never even begin to understand.

He knew now.

And nothing but gratefulness bloomed in his chest. The field of poppies would soon take over his entire figure. Johnny just smiled. He could live off poppy seeds alone. 

“You said endings were your worst fear.” Ten looked from his screen at the words. “But they aren’t, are they?” No response. “It’s the passage of time, the realisation that you won’t get your time back. That’s your worst fear.”

“Damn you and your psychology minor.” 

“It’s not that.” Johnny corrected. “It’s this, Ten.” he pointed at the screen. “It’s all here.”

“Too late to change it now.” 

“You are one brave boy, Ten.”

In reply, the younger leaned in, hands cupping his own face.

Johnny followed him. “You fucking amaze me.”

“It’s all you.”

“Me?” Johnny blinked. “How?”

“After sleeping over to your house, on my way back I thought ‘hey, why does any of this have to end?’” Ten shrugged, smirk tugging on his lips, eyes daring.

“I can’t even remember when it started.”Johnny tilted his head, grabbing one of Ten’s wrist so it would use as a head rest as well.

“The museum. Definitely.”

Ten’s thumb stroked up and down Johnny’s cheekbone. He smiled, trying to chase the finger with his lips. Only to withdraw. Ten gave him three fakes until he let the thumb be caught. 

“Even with my stupid beanie?”

“Even with your stupid beanie.” Ten booped Johnny’s nose before leaning away.

“Wow, you really like me that much?” Ten pinched his ear, making Johnny hiss and stand up slightly to get away form his hold. “Hey, ouch, stop it, I like you too, damn it!”

Johnny thanked his clumsiness, walking backwards and bumping into something that could have been precious: but it turned out to be priceless. 

  
  
  
  


Oasis was Wednesday, in the middle of the week, their small little vacation.

Ten had his arms stretched, taking a deep breath before he jumped. One foot after the other, all fear of slipping wiped from his mind. Poof, gone. It seemed easy. Johnny made it so easy. 

When he reached the other side, he bowed dramatically at the cheering of the taller from the other side. Lowering his camera after the video was deemed done, and proceeding to cross as well. Not with the same grace, but not everyone could be Ten.

A shame.

Grabbing onto the extended hand, Johnny made the last step a giant one, making Ten scoff as he pulled him closer, to safety.

“Happy forty fourth day.” Johnny said as they started walking.

“We are not doing this.” Ten rolled his eyes as he replied, head resting on Johnny’s shoulder for a hot second. 

“So, what are we celebrating?” They were reaching the first bridge, murals filled it in blue, green, red and purple. Celebrating the upcoming flower festival. 

The younger turned at the question, full body facing the other, making their steps halt to a stop.

“Nothing.” He replied simply.

“Nothing? Ever?”

Shaking his head, Ten went to fix Johnny’s collar where the strap of the camera was messing it up. 

“Well, okay we can celebrate Christmas and New Year.” Ten went on, his tone well known between the two as a teasing one. “Maybe your birthday if you want.”

Once his job on the denim collar was done, his hands traveled south, mapping Johnny’s arms through the fabric, until he reached his hands. 

“What about pocky day?” Johnny was leaning in.

“That one too.” Ten agreed, tilting his head.

“National kiss day?”

“Fucking kiss me already, Jonathan.”

They met in the middle. 

Johnny tasted like coffee, disgustingly so, but it was intoxicating. In a very weird way that only someone who had been pinning intensely on the taller for over a month would comprehend. Hands on the back of his head, around his shoulders, pulling him closer impossibly closer. 

Ten was covered in golden sand, poppies and forget-me-nots hugging him like a blanket. And he took and took and took, knowing he was giving and giving and giving. Not out of duty, not in a rush. 

Johnny made it so easy.

  
  
  


“Fucking hell, your legs are too fucking long.”

“Wait, should I hold them up?” Johnny asked, head rising a bit from the pillows.

Ten saw the clouds before his eyes, a little fog cruising through the beach too early for anyone to venture in. However, Johnny was burning up, everywhere Ten touched, a new campfire begun, and he felt aflame. No hands, no fingers, he just saw warmth. Hence why he caressed the elder like he was afraid, like he could see the second degree burns.

“No.” Ten left out with an exhale, lips tugging upwards. Because Johnny was a sight to see, splayed out in his tiny bed, as long as he was. Naked and flushed like some bad tie dye, and some little marks like moon flowers, only blooming for tonight. “No, it’s fine.”

He had been crawling up the bed, his body whispering against Johnny, two buzzing beings like magnets on opposite sides of a table. One hand came to brush Johnny’s fringe out of his forehead, the taller fluttered his eyes closed at that, leaning against the touch when the palm settled on his cheek.

“Hey.” Ten called softly, catching himself staring at the other with tender eyes, and he wasn’t scared. Not anymore.

They might burn together after that night, create a new limbo, a new sort of infinity. 

“Hey yourself.” Johnny replied, eyes crescents as his smile bloomed. 

“You are absolutely beautiful.” Rejoicing in the small giggle he earned, Ten started pecking Johnny’s face.

From his chin up to his forehead, down his temples, to his cheek. From cheek to cheek, thriving in how he could  _ feel _ Johnny blushing. That’s what it was about, after all. Feeling. They weren’t so scary, not that boogeyman waiting until the lights went out. They were mammoths, they were heavy, weighing him down.

Suffocating.

Johnny found his hand.

Ten could do this. Ten could live with a mammoth foot hugging his chest, constricting. He could let people do that to him, he could let himself be loved. Because when Johnny found Ten’s nose, nuzzled him in a little nose kiss, Ten felt invincible. Immortal. That’s what it was all about.

“Ten, you are like, so fucking hot, but I am going to cry if you don’t do something.” Johnny breathed out.

The shorter giggled softly, not wanting to be the one to tear up the atmosphere.

“What do you want me to do, love?”

Johnny’s eyes widened at that, and Ten leaned down for a small peck. He was ready for this, he was absolutely sure. He was committed from beginning to end to make Johnny understand. To make himself clear for the taller.

“Touch me, please.”

“I can do that.” Ten kissed his nose again, before sitting on his calves.

Johnny’s free hand mourned the loss of his warmth, hovering in the air before dropping by his side. Ten’s fingers started there, a small consolation before going up his arm, raising goosebumps in his wake. Drumming against Johnny’s collarbone, his Adams apple, the other collarbone. Down his nipple: faint heartbeat. The other: frantic beating.

“Good?” Ten didn’t even finish saying the word; Johnny was already nodding, eyes closed and lip trapped between his teeth. “You are fucking wonderful.”

Ten poked his navel after scratching his abdomen lightly, making Johnny chuckle and complain about tickles. So, of course, he did it again. The taller thrashing to the side slightly, free hand coming to grab Ten’s wrist.

“Stop it.” He whined, letting Ten push him against the mattress again with a soft hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Apologized the younger.

He was laughing too. God, he was having so much fun and they haven’t even started.

But, he had to put a stop to that, enough was enough.

When he wrapped his hand around Johnny’s dick he expected something incredible.

What he got instead was Johnny arching his back, hand squeezing Ten’s as he gasped. Ten expected fireworks but he got an aurora boreal. Naturally beautiful and unique.

He sped up.

Johnny was a kaleidoscope: he was red, and pink and moaning. His tongue darting out to lick his lips, his interlocked hands up against his lips just a few seconds later muffling himself. Eyes closing, eyes shot open, clutching the pillow case. Grabbing Ten’s wrist. Everywhere. Scattered. Ten just had to twist his wrist for a new sound to be made, for a new pattern to be born. Ten wanted to wreck him, but also put him back together.

He wanted.

How much he wanted.

“Fuck.” Johnny said opening his eyes. “Please.”

“Close already?”

“It’s been long.”

“We don’t have to do any—“

“No.” Johnny would have sat up, wasn’t it for the hand in his dick, now slowing down. He rested his weight on his elbows, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the younger.

Ten didn’t stop his movements, now loosely stroking the other, letting him gather his thoughts and words.

“No I…” Johnny started, panting. “I really want to do this.” His hold on Ten’s wrist didn’t loosen, au contraire.

The shorter let him guide his hand off of his member, and up to his lips.

“Jesus Christ, Johnny.” Ten moaned when Johnny took his fingers inside his mouth. He was unable to look away, he didn’t want to look away. Because he wasn’t a fucking idiot. It should be illegal to miss something so marvelous.

“Please.” Johnny let out as soon as Ten’s digits were out of his mouth, filthy cleaned and covered with saliva.

The taller boy’s hand still on Ten’s wrist, moved again. This time traveling south. Lower. Past his dick, angrily yet so prettily tainted in pink.

“Please.”

“Okay.” Ten said. He let go from Johnny’s hold of both his hands, fingers started to trace patterns on his thighs, making Johnny shiver. “But with actual lube, Johnny. We aren’t fucking teenagers anymore.”

“Just hurry.”

“Needy.” Ten teased, biting down on Johnny’s thigh before moving away.

Johnny let out a sound between a sigh and a whine, and Ten was just so fucking in love with him. There was no turning back, no excuses, no debate. He was just in love with Johnny Suh with all his might, with all his being.

He wasn’t afraid. Intense, burning like the pits of hell, like a newborn sword he held onto it. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to let go.

Some things were meant to last.

Lube dripped down from his fingers to his arm as he came back onto the bed, setting himself on his rightful place: between Johnny’s legs. He nudged them open, just a tad more, with his left hand.

“Look at me, babe.” Ten’s voice was a roller coaster, his mind dialed the tones depending on the mood. He was human after all. But he had never heard himself sound so low and yet so sweet at the same time.

Johnny looked at him. Pleading with his brown eyes.

Ten couldn’t take in anymore.

He leaned in and kissed him for all Johnny was worth, which was more than all the gold in the dessert. Johnny let out a loud moan when Ten’s finger entered him. Then a hiss.

Looking worried, Ten pulled away from the kiss. Johnny pushed him back against his lips, arm around his shoulders, pressing him flush to his chest. He was bare open. Bared and open. For Ten only, and yes, that thought might be stupid and possessive, but it made Ten moan against Johnny’s open lips. The taller sucked him in, his tongue and his two fingers up the knuckle.

“More.”

“Faster?” Johnny nodded a little, soon jerking as his wishes were met. “Johnny.” Ten said cupping his face with one hand. “I need to hear you, okay? Tell me what you want.”

Johnny placed his hand on top of Ten’s. “Okay.”

Ten kissed him again, this time a chaste peck on the edge of his mouth. His hand was starting to cramp a little, so he shifted a little his fingers, finding it a more comfortable angle.

“Oh my  _ God _ .” Johnny’s back lifted from the mattress again, his chin bumping against Ten’s shoulder. “Sorry.” He whispered roughly on his way down, eyes hazy, barely open.

“It’s fine.” Ten said smiling, his hand finding his face again, thumb caressing his cheek. “Good?”

“Yes, please again.” Ten took a couple of pushes to find that bundle of nerves again. Johnny melted. “Ten. Ten, Ten.” His tone was insistent.

“Tell me, babe.” The shorter caught himself panting, also out of breath. Intertwining their fingers when Johnny held his hand again, now pressed against his chest.

“Fuck me.”

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! First of all, thank you all so so so much for reading this. I know this was a long fic, trust me, I had to write it. So, again, I am truly so grateful that you reached the end, I really hope you liked it as much as I do. Now, trust me, I know this isn't the best fanfic out there, but I am super attached to it. This project has been with me for months and I can't help but love it.  
> Maybe you can feel my love for this story between the lines, if so I'm glad.  
> Again, thank you for reading! I wish you all a great day/night!  
> 


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